


10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

by sondepoch



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Business, Child Abuse, Completed, Death of a dream, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sondepoch/pseuds/sondepoch
Summary: The rich don't have it easy.Hell, with all the expectations and formalities and complications, your life is more difficult than most. Before, that was okay: because you'd always worked hard in your determination to succeed. But now, at your parents' request, you're engaged to the father of Jumin Han, the richest man in all of South Korea.And the last man you want to marry.But no amount of hard work will get you out of the situation you're in. And as if that wasn't bad enough, as you begin to spend more and more time with your fiance's son, you find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the heir himself: Jumin Han.But despite your developing affections for one another, there's nothing either of you can do about the engagement. So, for now, you focus on the present. You have ten days to enjoy life, before your marriage completely ruins all your hopes of happiness.Ten days of happiness.Ten days with Jumin Han.
Relationships: Han Jumin/Main Character, Han Jumin/Reader
Comments: 56
Kudos: 239





	1. Day 1

Perfection.

Your entire life, that was all you sought.

Perfection.

Your parents had raised you in an elite neighborhood, surrounded by the most prestigious of company, with the constant expectation that you'd be the best student in your school. Your room had been a paradise, your skin better than a model's, and you'd gone through years of training to always be the most _ladylike_ in every room.

Perfection was never something you sought - but rather something that had always been expected of you.

From the day you were adopted at three years old, your parents had made it clear that the reason they had selected _you_ of all the children was because you seemed the most moldable. The least resilient. The most willing.

And that much was true. You did everything they ever asked from you.

Now though, now that it feels like your whole life is about to end and your world is about to come crashing down: you can't help but think about that fateful day. You'd accepted their explanation at first, but now, you suspect that the reason for your adoption was because you best conformed to the image of what they wanted their child to look like. Just like your adoptive parents, you had (e/c) eyes and were (h/c), so to the public eye you looked like a natural daughter. And years of learning dance had toned your body to give you all the right curves and edges: true beauty, to any man who gazed upon you.

Even when your father had passed at the young age of forty years old, after protecting you from a drunk driver, he'd gazed upon you on his deathbed, telling you how much he loved you and how perfect you were.

_But this whole time, I was incomplete, wasn't I?_ You think bitterly, as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You wish you have the courage to ask those words out loud to your mother, who's smoking a cigarette in the hotel room next to yours, just a call away; but why bother when you already know the answer?

No matter what you did, from bringing home trophies in middle school to skyrocketing the stocks of their company, your role as a daughter has never been fulfilled.

Until _now_.

You drop your gaze to the diamond band wrapped around your ring finger.

_Perfection_.

It's the ring that completes your package as the perfect daughter. In your life, you'd been slowly achieving all your parents' needs from you. Their demands had started superficial, with the requirement that you were beautiful and graceful. Then it delved deeper, and you had to make sure you were always ladylike and polite. Soon, your responsibilities turned to being the top student in all your classes and placing first in all your extracurricular competitions. Then, it had been soaring through college and working as the Director of Internal Affairs at your parents' company, BC-Sonic.

Yesterday, there had been only one thing left that your mother sought from you: an engagement to the wealthiest man in all of South Korea.

And as always, you'eve fulfilled their expectations.

Perfection.

There was no other word anyone could use to describe you.

If only you could feel the same way.

"(Y/N)," You hear your mother call from the other side of the wall. "Are you ready yet?"

You take a second glance at yourself in the mirror.

To please your fiancé, you'd changed into a stunning red gown with diamond jewelry to match the ring he'd placed on your finger just yesterday. It's the kind of dress that men love and women hate. The bottom of the dress hangs low, just barely scraping the floor when you stand upright in your heels, but there's a slit that reveals your provocative legs, trailing all the way up to wear your 'birthmark' is. As if that weren't enough, though the top half of you is far from modest and your back and shoulders are almost entirely bare, making you feel naked.

But you know you look radiant.

"Yes, Mother," You respond swiftly, satisfied with your appearance.

The woman wastes no time in entering your room, and she immediately comes over to you. Cigarette in hand, you can't help but tense at the sight of the burn stick even though you know it won't touch you.

"Chin up," She commands. "Shoulders back, jaw loose. Don't move your head when you walk, or your hair will come undone. Come here, sweetling, yes, _perfect_. Back straight, (Y/N). There you go, make sure to hold your posture. Eyes up, don't stare at the ground."

If your father was here, he'd scoff at your mother's remarks and tell you how pretty you look, and how Chairman Han won't back out of this marriage over something trivial as drooped shoulders.

_But he's gone. And all I have left is Mother._

Your mother stiffens. "Remember, (Y/N). You will be a proper lady at all times. Just because your last name is changing doesn't mean that the media won't continue to associate you with me. Every public appearance you make must be perfect, hm?" The woman's eyes are cold as she reminds you of your duty. "Do not allow the paparazzi to waste the years of training that has brought you to this moment. Do not forget who you are for even a moment."

You swallow nervously, but don't allow your fear to show. "Yes, Mother."

"Are you ready to meet Chairman Han for the first time since the formalization of your engagement?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good," She says, before looking at you quizzically. "I leave for my flight in fifteen minutes. I do not want any calls from you saying that you've messed this up. Do you hear me? Do not ruin this, (Y/N). Of all things, do not ruin this."

You meet her eyes for perhaps the first time today, and you can't decode the look in her eyes. What is it hidden behind that seemingly infinite abyss of (e/c)? Resentment? Wariness? Concern? You've never failed her before, she shouldn't have any reason to think ill of you.

Though for her, this is by far the greatest task she has requested of you in your entire life. You'd tried your best to hide your mislike for Chairman Han, but she was your mother. Not biologically, but still.

Does she sense your apprehension at marrying Chairman Han?

"I'll make you proud, Mother."

Whenever your thoughts fail you, those words won't. Because each time you speak them, you sincerely mean them.

No matter what your parents asked of you, you would do it. That's how it always had been.

Marrying Chairman Han will be no exception.

***

"Let's not order yet, my love," Your fiancé murmured, placing his menu down next to his plate.

Despite your confusion, you do the same. "Is something the matter?" You inquire, already fearing for the worst. What if the reason Chairman Han doesn't want to order is because he doesn't want to have dinner with you?

Horror floods your senses as you internally prepare for the worst.

What if he wants to cancel the engagement?

You try not to imagine your mother's fury if such a thing were to happen, already acutely aware of your trembling hands.

"Don't be nervous, (Y/N)," Chairman Han says, placing a hand on your cheek. His hand is gentle, but you have to remind yourself not to physically recoil from his touch. "It's just that I've invited my son to share dinner with us. Now that we're engaged, I think it's well past time he meets the woman I'm going to share the rest of my life with."

You smile softly at the Chairman, relieved that it was nothing more serious. "Your son agreed? The same man who declined all our previous invitation to dine together?" You laugh lightly, not truly offended by your future step-son's refusal to meet with you. It's no secret that Chairman Han is a womanizer, and there's no doubt that his son had thought that you were just another senseless fling.

"Don't be offended by him, he's just a little...clueless when it comes to some social cues."

You smile, unsure of what to respond with. You're about to compliment Chairman Han's tie when his gaze flits above you.

"Ah, Jumin! You're here!"

You freeze.

_Jumin?_

The man takes his seat at the round table and turns to greet you with a bored look in his eye.

As soon as his gaze meets yours though, his eyes widen. And yours do too, at the realization that this engagement will be far worse than you'd ever expected.

_Of course_ , you think to yourself. How could you forget? Jumin Han had been your classmate nearly a decade ago when the two of you were in high school. The two of you hadn't been especially close—distant enough that you hadn't pieced together the fact that it was _his_ father you're marrying—but still acquainted to the point where you knew a good amount of information about him.

Like the fact that he, your future step-son, is _older_ than you by a good six months.

"Jumin, I'd like you to meet my fiancé. This is (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)...or, I suppose," The Chairman flashes you a bold grin. "(Y/N) Han."

You shift your gaze from the Chairman back to Jumin, terrified. What do you say? _'Nice to meet you?'_

"It's been very long since I last saw you, (Y/N)," Jumin says stiffly, a cold expression on his face. "You've changed."

You swallow and try to remember your mother's instructions back in the hotel room. _Be natural. Shoulders back, jaw loose. Back straight, eyes up._

As you force your body back into its proper posture, you feel yourself become more ladylike and somehow, your tongue unties itself and the words pour out of you. "Too long! How have you been, Jumin?"

You try not to cringe at the fakeness of your tone, but desperately hope that Jumin doesn't pick up on your fear. Of all the things to shake the foundations of your engagement, the fact that it's _Jumin's_ father you're marrying is the worst.

Without a doubt, he's capable of convincing his father to cancel the engagement.

And that's the one thing you can't let happen.

"You two already know each other?" The Chairman asks.

Before you can respond, though, Jumin speaks up, his tone ice cold.

"Yes, I actually had the pleasure of knowing (Y/N) for _four years_ when we were students _._ I suppose that's considerably longer than you've known her, Father?"

The Chairman raises an eyebrow, not liking the attitude he was getting from his son. "Excuse me, Jumin? It's true that I've only known sweet (Y/N) for a few weeks but our love is genuine, and I don't appreciate your implication."

"Your love is genuine?" Jumin responds swiftly. "Father, this girl is younger than _me_. You're marrying someone who should be your daughter."

You feel like this is a part where you should butt in and say something about how much you care about Chairman Han, despite his age, but thankfully the waiter interrupts the two men before you have to.

"Gentlemen, lady, might I take your orders?" He asks, and the tension in the room seems to settle.

Jumin orders his 'usual', whatever that is, but you haven't even had the opportunity to look at the menu. Momentarily flustered, you glance at your fiancé for help, but much to your relief, he orders for you.

He smiles generously at you once the waiter is gone as he pours you a glass of wine that had been brought to your table, and you try to ignore the fact that you won't be able to eat half of what he ordered for you.

"So, how is C&R doing?" You ask, trying to make conversation. "My family was checking this morning, and it seems that your stocks are faring extremely well."

"Business is going brilliantly, darling," The Chairman says, taking your comment as an invitation to regale you with all the details of how he secured two new investors in one day. You try to stay interested in what he's saying, but you find it difficult not to lose focus when the older man starts to rant about his theories for when the next depression will hit.

You spend the next few moments lost in your thoughts as you stare mindlessly into the man's eyes, seeming interested in his conversation but worlds away in mind. It's only when he dons a suspicious smile and slides his hand onto your thigh that you instinctively flinch, spilling wine on yourself.

You immediately stand up, apologizing for the mess while excusing yourself to the bathroom, finding an escape from the situation as fast as possible.

By the time you're in a stall, tears have already welled up in your eyes and you have to bend your body over and stare straight into the ground to prevent the tears from falling onto your cheeks. You can't risk ruining your makeup. You can't let Chairman Han think anything is wrong.

_Calm down, (Y/N),_ You reason with yourself. _If you're truly going to go through with this marriage, then you'll have to get used to Chairman Han touching you like that. You'll have to be prepared for even worse._

But just beginning to think about such awful things brings such a wave of nausea through your body that you decide it's best not to think about it at all, and you instead focus on your dress, dapping toilet paper at the small spot that's still wet.

You hear the bathroom door open, and initially pay it no mind until a familiar voice calls out to you.

"(Y/N)?"

Your heart nearly stops.

"J-Jumin?"

The voice pauses, before sighing. "Yeah. It's me."

Slowly, dreading the moment that's about to follow, you open the bathroom stall door and face the man, praying for this encounter to be over quickly.

"This is the woman's bathroom, in case you hadn't realized." You frown.

"I had." Jumin crosses his arms. "But I doubt you want to have this conversation in front of my father."

You stay silent.

"You spilled that wine on purpose," Jumin says. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his voice, and the way he says it, you can't even pretend that he's lying.

"On purpose, yes, but I _do_ love your father." _Woah_. The way you said that so readily, you almost believe yourself.

Jumin takes a step closer to you, tilting your chin upward so he can better see your face in the fluorescent lights above. "You were crying," He says. Another fact.

"This was a nice dress. It's made me sad that I spilled wine on it."

"I don't recall you being that superficial."

"Why do you care?" You ask, taking a step back. Jumin's penetrating gaze bores into you, and you have to look away before your eyes can reveal how your heart feels.

"You've managed to convince my fool of a father that you're in love with him, and while I could not care less about you, I _do_ mind what happens to him."

"I care about your father too," You say, but you can tell Jumin doesn't believe you.

"You care about him? Why, only ten seconds ago, you loved him. How much longer until you reveal your true intentions? I saw how fast you moved that wine glass, you can't tolerate his touch any more than you love him."

"I felt uncomfortable with you there," You respond swiftly. For a second, Jumin is taken aback, unsure of how to respond, and you take that as a victory. Have you finally said the right thing?

"Why are you doing this, (Y/N)? You could have almost any man you want, but really—my _father?_ Your company is doing well enough that you don't need our finances, your family has more than enough connections, and it's not like..."

Jumin trailed off, his eyes narrowing.

"Is BC-Sonic in legal trouble?"

You practically roll your eyes at Jumin's absurd suggestion. "No!"

"Then why?!" Jumin asks. "Why have you targeted my father, of all the weak men in the world? What do you stand to gain from this marriage?"

You swallowed your doubts and took a step forward, knowing that if you had even the slightest hesitation when you uttered the following words Jumin wouldn't believe them. "Because I love him, Jumin."

And in that moment, it very well may have been true.

Near fifteen minutes later, the three of you are seated back at the table, making polite conversation about how C&R's export expansion goals would benefit from BC-Sonic's business connections in the Americas.

In fact, from a distance, the three of you look united. Jumin even smiles at you when you made a joke, and you feel a smidgen of hope flutter in your stomach when you realize that the three of you look almost like a family.

Your mother would be proud, you tell yourself, ignoring the fact that, to any outsider, they'd assume you to be betrothed to Jumin rather than his balding father.

Chairman Han is about to give Jumin some additional business advice when suddenly, he receives an emergency call from work.

You watch him from afar as he answers the phone, the pit of worry in your stomach growing stronger and stronger as you recognize the lines on his face contort into exasperation, then concern, and finally anger.

"(Y/N), darling, I'm afraid I have to fly out tonight," Chairman Han says, already wearing his jacket. "There's been some kind of security breach with our Director of International Communications and he's refusing to speak with me over the phone. I'll try to be back as quickly as possible, but..." The man trails off, and you realize where he's leading.

Where will you stay?

The words your mother said to you right before leaving suddenly seem more ominous than ever. 

_I do not want any calls from you saying that you've messed this up. Do you hear me? Do not ruin this for us, (Y/N)._

Does this count as a mess-up? What will your parents say? Can this cause the engagement to be canceled?

"Jumin, would you mind allowing (Y/N) to rest in your apartment for the night? I'll be back as soon as I can, and I don't want her flying all the way out to the BC-Sonic headquarters just tonight."

You bite your lip.

Staying with Jumin, horrible as it sounds, is still better than admitting failure to your parents. You gaze at him with hopeful eyes, and when he reluctantly agrees to his father's request, you have to physically prevent yourself from jumping for joy.

Chairman Han still seems apprehensive about the situation, regret painted on his features even as he rushes out of the restaurant, but suddenly your entire world seems brighter without the prospect of entertaining the older gentleman for the evening.

Unfortunately for you, though, Jumin picks up on your newfound happiness.

"You say you love him, but the first genuine smile I've seen from you all night only comes after he's gone."

You frown at Jumin, mood dampened.

"And how would you know what one of my genuine smiles looks like?"

Jumin sighs, putting down his fork. "(Y/N), we were in the same class for five years. My memory isn't so poor that I'd forget something so memorable that easily."

"'Something so memorable?' Are you saying that my smile is weird?" You accuse Jumin jokingly, hoping him to distract him from the topic of your engagement to his father.

"Of course not," He blurts, but it feels like the tips of his ears are the slightest bit pinker than they were one second ago. "Just eat your food so the two of us can be out of here as quickly as possible. I'm sure you're as eager for this night to end as I am."

You ignore Jumin's rudeness, glancing down at your plate. You awkwardly stab the corner of the dish and take a hesitant bite of it before butting your fork down, immediately realizing that your entire dish is inedible to you.

"What's wrong with the food?" Jumin asks. "Did the chef make a mistake while cooking it?"

You drag your eyes away from Jumin, suddenly hating the situation.

You want to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this.

"(Y/N)?" Jumin asks again, more gentle this time.

"I can't," You murmur under your breath, too quiet for anyone to hear. But Jumin's expectant expression forces you to repeat yourself. "I can't!"

"You can't what?"

"I can't eat this meal."

"...Is there a reason?"

You stay silent, already knowing that if you tell Jumin the truth, he'll just use it as ammo to ridicule the engagement between you and Chairman Han.

But as the silence stretches from uncomfortable to unbearable, you force the words past your lips. "I'm allergic to tomatoes."

And the dish Chairman Han had ordered for you was _tomato_ -wrapped scallops with pineapple quinoa.

"And you two claim to be in love," Jumin mutters under his breath, scoffing. Wordlessly, he switches his barely-touched plate for yours and makes no further attempts at conversation.

You don't need to read his mind to know the mocking thoughts flitting through his mind, ridiculing the fact that your own fiancé didn't know such a simple fact about you.

The rest of the evening is spent in silence. But from the way Jumin stabs his scallops, you sense something deeper. Cruelty? Resentment? Hate?

Anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3.6k
> 
> Notes: And that's the first chapter of this series! Some general info: As the name indicates, this work will have 10 chapters total (no epilogue planned), and right now I plan to be updating once per week on Saturdays :) And heads up - this WILL end in angst
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 4/04/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	2. Day 2

By the time dinner is concluded and you're finally at Jumin's penthouse, it's well past midnight. 

Still a child used to her normal daily routine, it takes all your effort to keep your eyes open, with your body relaxed from the wine and your mind tired from trying not to further aggravate Jumin.

"I'll show you the guest room in a moment," Jumin says stiffly. "Just wait on the couch for a moment while I make sure that it's been properly set up."

With that, he leaves.

You waste no time in flopping onto his couch, not caring about your dress wrinkling. _I'll just lie down for a moment until Jumin comes back_ , you tell yourself, kicking your heels onto the floor and resting your head on the armrest.

For the next thirty seconds, you really do attempt everything in your power to stay awake. You try to think about the engagement, your mother, even Jumin himself, but for some reason, you can't bring yourself to care about anything when the pull of Hypnos grows stronger.

Vaguely, you recognize the sound of someone saying your name. _Is that Chairman Han?_ You wonder, before realizing that this man's voice has a slightly different cadence to it: softer, deeper, and gentler.

But even that thought takes too much energy and you fall asleep to the feeling of a soft blanket being wrapped around you, utterly unaware of the sighing man watching you.

Sleep is surprisingly blissful on that couch.

When you wake up, half of you is still in the dreamworld, and the morning drowsiness hits you harder than usual.

It takes you a minute to remember where you are, why you fell asleep on a couch, and whose apartment you're in. _Right,_ you think with a grimace. _I'm with Jumin._

It barely takes a single glance around the apartment for you to now realize what your mind had been too exhausted to register yesterday: this entire penthouse is suspiciously familiar. You pull yourself off the couch, wondering why, and it's only when you see the full-glass wall to the left of you that you remember.

After all, how could you ever forget such a view?

You stand up from the couch, wrapping your blanket further around your body as you walk over to the windowed wall. From such a high distance, the people walking around in Seoul are nothing more than colored spots, the cars they're driving just ants carrying them here and there. 

You saw this very same view nearly a decade ago, when you'd visited the home of a classmate for a group project. Jumin must have purchased this within the past few years.

A soft smile blooms on your lips at the memory of your past.

Back then you'd been so innocent and carefree, never realizing that one day your mother would marry you off to a man older than even your adoptive father.

 _But this is the life I've been given, so there's no point in brooding about it, eh?_ You tell yourself, resolving to be strong.

You force yourself away from the window. There's no point in reminiscing over the past. The fact that you're even in Jumin Han's penthouse is a testimony to your need to prepare yourself for the future.

You make your way to the guest bathroom, sliding the door open. Relief floods you when you find that Jumin has left you everything you could possibly need: a fresh change of clothes, toiletries, and what looks like a professional-grade makeup kit.

You look at the various foundations suspiciously before deciding not to use any of them, uncomfortable with using a brand of makeup your skin isn't used to. _Besides_ , you think while gazing at your skin in the mirror. _It's not like I need to impress Jumin._

You shower and change into the clothes you'd been left, pleasantly finding that they were just loose enough to make you look comfortable but still cute. _Alright_ , you think, smiling at your reflection. _Let's get some breakfast._

But by the time you've maneuvered your way to the kitchen, you're shocked to find that Jumin is already there.

"What's this?" You muse out loud, grabbing his attention. "Jumin Han making breakfast? Never did I think I'd see the day."

The man in front of you averts his eyes, going back to frying the omelet in his pan. "The chef called in sick. His usual replacement is apparently on vacation."

You let out a light chuckle before taking the cooking spatula from Jumin's hand. "You have to use oil if you want the egg to cook properly."

He doesn't respond while you turn the electric stove off, and you can't suppress your laughter at the executive director's inability to do something simple as cooking eggs. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

"I haven't, but you certainly have." Jumin looks away, not meeting your eyes, killing your mirth in an instant.

"Jumin...I'm marrying your father because I love him. There's no ulterior motive, nothing else to it." You try to get Jumin to look you in the eyes, but his gaze is locked on the ruined eggs.

"My father might love you, but you don't love him," Jumin mutters, glaring. "I haven't figured out what your angle is, but I won't be fooled. Go, your phone is ringing."

You turn around and, sure enough, your phone's screen is lit up with the bright contact picture of Chairman Han. You pick up the phone and turn your body away from Jumin so that he can't see the grimace on your face as you speak to your fiancé.

"Hi dear," You say with fake excitement. "How are you?"

"Horrible, (Y/N)," Chairman Han says from the other line. "The Director of International Communications was right...this whole situation is too high-level for me to discuss over the phone. But C&R will be in huge trouble if I don't stay here and sort this out. I'm sorry, my love, but you'll need to stay with Jumin for a few more nights."

"I see," You say, tone flat. You don't know whether you should be excited at the prospect of a few more days without Chairman Han's presence or terrified of how Jumin will behave with you.

As if he were hearing your internal thoughts, though, Chairman Han asks, "Is my son treating you well?"

You swallow nervously, well-aware that you can only say one thing. "Of course. Jumin's been very good to me."

Chairman Han sighs. "Good. I'm sorry, sweetling, but I have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Until then, goodbye."

The man pauses, before adding: "I love you, (Y/N)."

You swallow. There's only one thing for you to say. "I love you, too."

From behind you, Jumin scoffs.

When you've hung up, you turn to him once more. "Looks like I'll be staying with you a couple more nights."

But if Jumin heard you, he makes no indication of such. "I'm going to work."

"It's Sunday."

"I'd rather be at an empty C&R building than with a liar like you. Deceive my father you might, but I won't fall for your tricks."

"Jumin..." You trail off, trying not to be insulted by his words.

But before you can say anything more, he's grabbed an umbrella and is out the door, leaving only you in his lonely, lonely apartment.

Or at least, that's what you thought half an hour ago, before you met his _adorable_ cat.

She now lies curled in your lap, licking her paw daintily while you try not to squeal from how _precious_ she is. Your fiancé had ranted half a hundred times to you about how his son obsessed over his cat: Elizabeth the Third. (Or is it the Fourth? You can't remember.) When you first heard about it, you'd scoffed and dismissed the notion of any animal being so mesmerizing, but now that Elizabeth is actually _in your lap,_ it's hard not to fall in love with her.

Stroking her head delicately, you can't help but sigh. "Why won't Jumin accept me as easily as you, Elizabeth?"

A part of you almost waits for the cat to respond, before you realize what you're doing. Sighing, you turn to your phone and check your texts. No messages from Mother, nothing from Chairman Han, and...who else would text you? Jumin doesn't even have your number.

You groan, hating how he stormed out. But curse as you might, you know that there's nothing you can do about his prejudice against you.

Objectively speaking, he's in the wrong. You gain nothing from this marriage with Chairman Han. BC-Sonic is on a steady rise, and will soon be as large as C&R your family is wealthy enough that a divorce settlement would be useless; and Chairman Han can't give you anything you don't already have.

But then, when one considers the more delicate nuances behind the marriage, it feels like Jumin has the truth of it.

You _don't_ love Chairman Han, though you've managed to get the older man to fall in love with you.

But maybe that's okay.

Because Chairman Han will be happy with you by his side. You're a good actor, you'll live the rest of your life pretending to reciprocate his affections...and you'll give him true happiness. You've spent your whole life trying to be the perfect daughter, and now all your efforts will turn to being the perfect wife.

So Jumin has no reason for complaint.

If anything, his father benefits most from this marriage, by wedding a youthful and beautiful woman who's long captured the heart of the media.

 _I should be the one protesting this_ , You tell yourself, before remembering why you hadn't. _It's not like I have a choice_ , you remember, thinking of your mother. In a roundabout way, this marriage would also bring you happiness. _It'll free me of Mother_.

You massage your thigh, images of growing up flashing through your mind, before you shake your head.

It's not good to dwell on the past. As soon as your marriage with Chairman Han is complete, you'll leave those memories in the past.

 _Forever_.

You stare at your phone once more, hesitating before typing in C&R's name into the search engine. Part of you hoped that there would be some word of the 'huge trouble' Chairman Han had said his company was in, but somehow the media has yet to catch wind of the situation.

_That's a good thing, though. If C &R's stock drops, then Chairman Han will want to advance the wedding date to connect our companies as quickly as possible._

You tap the search bar again, and this time enter: _Jumin Han._ Your idea was strange, and a little unrealistic, but it might give you some information as to where Jumin went. Surely he didn't _actually_ go to C&R.

The page loads and sure enough, a low-credited media outlet has already released an article about _Jumin Han: Shopping Adventure?!?!_ as of thirty minutes ago. At the top of the page, there's a picture of him holding a bag from some store you vaguely recognize, and he's in the same suit and umbrella as when he left the house. _Never doubt the media_ , you tell yourself, mildly amused at how they managed to make a full article about something as mundane as a rich man shopping.

On the bright side, though, you at least know that Jumin is safe and accounted for. You make a mental reminder to ask for his phone number when he returns. Next time, you doubt there'll be an article online detailing his whereabouts.

But as minutes stretch into hours, and morning turns into evening, you realize, with fear, that Jumin might not be coming back. After cleaning the dish you had used to give Elizabeth dinner, you glance at the door hesitantly, as if staring longer will make Jumin walk through the door.

Sadly, it doesn't work.

You glance at your phone once more, now worried. You could call Chairman Han and ask him for his son's phone number...but no, you don't want any reason to talk with him now. You've already been sentenced to spend the rest of your life with the man, you'll enjoy this brief freedom from him as much as you can.

So who should you call...?

You have few acquaintances in this strange city of Seoul, never having been here for any purpose except business. There was always that one man...but you don't even know where he lives, much less if he's still at his old number.

Still, it's worth a shot.

You dial in the number you'd saved to your contacts so many years ago, wondering this was a lost cause. To your surprise, the man on the other line picks up instantly. "(F/N) (L/N)?" The man asks. "I've been waiting for you to call for the past four years! Are you here to chat, or are you finally going to cash in on one of those favors?"

"We can chat another time, Seven." You say, only knowing him by the hacker name he'd used when he first breached BC-Sonic's security system. "But right now, I have someone I need you to track down."

"Hm, I can do that. But I'll need you to narrow my search range down to at least the continent if you want an answer within the next twelve hours."

"How about if I tell you what city the person I'm looking for is in?"

On the other line, Seven laughs. "Sounds like you already know where they are, then. But yes, if you give me the city I can probably send you their exact address within the next ten minutes or so."

"That works."

"Good. Now, what's the name of the unfortunate soul that (F/N) (L/N) is hunting down?"

You sigh, frustrated that you're wasting a favor from one of the best hackers in the world to track down Jumin, but it can't be avoided.

"Jumin Han."

On the other line, the constant sound of typing from Seven's keyboard stops, and you can feel him shift all his attention to you. "(Y/N)..." He trails off, before continuing. "I'm sorry. He is one of the few people I cannot disclose private information on."

"Cannot or will not?" You ask, scowling. "Seven, you owe my company big-time for what you pulled when you breached our users' privacy. We've already suffered the backlash from the leak, but I did you a favor by not revealing your name to the public and you still attacked us _two more times!_ You and I both know that all it takes is a public statement from me for your entire world to come crashing down, so save us both the trouble and find me Jumin Han!"

You bite your lip, hating that you had to resort to threatening the hacker, but it's nearing midnight and you need to know that Jumin is safe. It doesn't matter where he is, be it in a bar or a friend's home or even a strip club—you just need to know that he's safe.

On the other line, Seven sighs. "(Y/N), you and I both know that you're too good of a person to leak my information like that. We both know what would happen, and I doubt you want my blood on your hands. Besides, it would only bring back bad memories for BC-Sonic and the media would be reminded of the breach. Your company's stock would drop."

"And I'd bring it back up again," You respond, but you both know that your threat was meanignless as it was pathetic. "Alright, fine. Maybe I won't tell the media anything, but at least check that Jumin Han is safe, wherever he is. If you won't reveal his location to me, you must have some kind of allegiance to him, and he might be in danger right now."

"Why? Did he receive any threats?" Seven asks, voice serious.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you realize that your concern for Jumin is baseless, only supported by the fact that it's late and he has yet to come home...but the worry in your stomach is too strong for you to ignore. "I just..He left without saying anything. I thought I saw an article that said he was going shopping, but if that were the case he should have returned hours ago. I'm just worried because...because..."

Seven finishes your sentence for you.

"...Because he's going to be family?"

You swallow.

The one condition your parents had desired for your marriage with Chairman Han was that the media would receive no word of the engagement until the entire process was complete. It was to be completely secret until everything was finalized. But if Seven knows...

"D-Did the media find out?" You ask, terrified for the truth. You fear for yourself, remembering your mother's dark warning against any failure.

"Not quite..." Seven trails off. "Jumin sort of...told me."

You swallow.

_What?!_

And that is the precise moment that Jumin walks in through the door, leading the way for eight hired helpers who each carry two armfuls of shopping bags.

"I'll call you back," You tell Seven, before angrily turning to Jumin. "Where were you?!"

"Out," Is all he says, loosening his tie and pulling a wine glass from the cabinet while the rest of the helpers leave the room, leaving only you and the man of the hour himself.

"A call to the penthouse would have been appreciated," You mumble. "I was worried sick. And so was Elizabeth."

As soon as you mention the cat's name, she comes running into the room, purring as she nuzzles against your leg. Jumin looks down at her in surprise, before picking her up and placing her onto the table where he strokes her fur.

"I shouldn't need to inform you where I am. Remember, in this house, you're an intruder. You are welcome here because my father directly requested this of me, but you will never be welcome in this family."

Jumin looks like he was planning on saying more, but his phone begins buzzing from his pocket and he excuses himself to take the call. While he answers, you pour yourself a cup of wine and look at Elizabeth. She's already accepted you into the family, why does Jumin have to be so difficult?

"You called Luciel?" Jumin fumes at you when he returns. "You were going to have a _hacker_ trace my whereabouts?"

You blink, not recognizing the name Luciel until you piece together that it must be Seven's real name. _A strange name_ , you think, _And probably another fake one, but it's information nonetheless._

"You had me worried, Jumin" You respond, voice low. You take another sip of wine, suddenly wishing that it were something stronger to give you the liquid courage you need to berate Jumin for his rudeness. "I was scared." That second part comes out in a whisper.

In front of you, the male seems taken aback by your sudden dejectedness. "I see," He says, though you can tell he wants to add more.

"We should exchange numbers, no?" You suggest, offering your phone to him so that he can enter his contact information. He doesn't repeat the gesture for you, but you don't think it matters, so long as you have his number.

A long silence follows, briefly interrupted only by Elizabeth's occasional purrs as Jumin rubs her head on the spot between her ears while you stroke her body. It's strange, but it's as if she's connecting the two of you, and healing all the seemingly unforgivable insults Jumin has labeled you with over the past two days.

"I'm tired," You tell him.

It's true, but you're not sure that he understands the full meaning behind the words.

There had been a day when you were excited about marrying Chairman Han, eager that the final piece in the puzzle of your life was going to be set in place. But then, you'd learned of his womanizing habits, his callous behavior, and his utterly banal taste.

You're tired.

You're tired of this engagement, but given that you have no choice in the matter and the fact that this engagement is your future, the truth is that you're tired of life. Tired of the life you've yet to even begin leading.

Still, it seems that Jumin picked up on some semblance of your meaning, and he sets down his wine glass. "I'd like to apologize, (Y/N)." He pauses, as if he were considering leaving it just at that, but finally continues. "I may have treated you...less fairly than you deserve."

An amused smile flits across your face. It wasn't an outright apology, still heavy with the implication that Jumin doesn't trust you, but it's progress.

"And how fairly do you think I deserve to be treated?" You ask, unable to hold the question back.

"I..." Jumin trails off. "I spoke with my father on the phone today. He...told me that your happiness was his happiness. I'm not foolish enough to believe that you love him, (Y/N), but if I mistreat you it will bring him pain. That's the only thing I wish to avoid."

You offer Jumin a light smile. "Jumin, if there's one thing I can promise you, it's that he will be happy with me. No matter what, he will feel loved."

"He will _feel_ loved by you, but will he _be_ loved by you?"

Your smile turns sour, and you think about the sad truth of life. "Is there truly a difference? He's happy regardless."

Jumin pauses, considering your words. Another moment of silence follows, and you almost stand up to go to bed, but the man finally speaks. "The difference is your happiness, (Y/N). Even if you're skilled enough to deceive my father into a false sense of happiness, what kind of life would you be leading?"

You swallow, trying your hardest to pretend as if you hadn't asked yourself the very same question this morning. Without any way to answer, you decide to use business tactics to respond. _If you can't respond in a way that benefits the company_ , _don't answer the question at all,_ your mother had once told you.

The same logic applies.

"We are in agreement that your father will be happy in this marriage. That is all that matters." To convey that this discussion is over, you stand up and announce that you'll be going to bed. It's not quite as late as it was when you'd arrived in Jumin's penthouse yesterday, but it's still well-past when you'd have liked to be asleep.

You don't look back when you leave the room, not even when you hear Elizabeth meow and attempt to follow you, for fear that Jumin will see your face and your tears.

For fear that Jumin will realize that thinking about the life you'll be leading brings you more pain than you've ever felt before.

For fear that Jumin will realize that you don't want this marriage any more than he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3.9k
> 
> Notes: Aghhh I'm so sleepy but I still have to work out >.> i kind of want to take a nap just to recharge but I know that if I do that I won't be able to get up UGH T^T plus i had ice cream today so if I skip ill feel guilty aghhhhhh woe is me
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 4/11/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	3. Day 3

Three years old.

That was how old you'd been when you first woke screaming. It was still weeks before you'd been adopted, and the fellow toddlers in the orphanage had been speaking of monsters and other terrifying creatures that lurked in the dark.

Your mind had thought them real, and had brought them to life in your dreams. You could recall hundreds of instances after that point where you'd been woken by the shrillness of your own screams.

Once you joined the (L/N) residence, your nightmares had continued, but you quickly learned to be silent in your terror, for fear of waking your mother. You'd thought that you had adequate control of your body to be able to stop yourself from calling out in slumber, but clearly, that sense of control had weakened.

_But why, of all nights for me to wake up screaming, did it have to be tonight?_ You ask yourself, unable to move or speak as you stare into the steely eyes of Jumin. You swallow, noting how—for the first time—his face is contorted into worry as he gazes down at you, not a trace of anger or resentment in his fine features.

"(Y/N)," He repeats. "Are you okay?"

You want to escape the situation. To be gone. Dead. Anywhere but here.

You want to pretend that you haven't just woken the entire building with your desperate scream in the dead of night, to pretend that the memory of the nightmare isn't intensifying the tremble in your lower lip.

You feel a lump in your throat build when your mind thinks back to the vividity of the dream, of Chairman Han's touch as he kissed you on your marriage day and put the final stamp on your fate, and all you can do to maintain your facade is force the memory from your mind.

You already know that if you say a word, the tears will spill and you'll be left even further humiliated in front of Jumin, so you wordlessly nod to answer his question.

"Did you...have a nightmare?"

His voice is so soft and tender. It's as if he _knows_.

"What was it about?" He inquires gently. His words come out slowly, as if you're a child.

"Monsters," You respond instantly, thinking back to what your childhood nightmares had always been about. You said it as a lie, but only now do you realize that your dream truly _had_ been about monsters: three of them. Your mother, who forced you into this marriage. Chairman Han, who was innocently unaware and going through with it. And perhaps worst of all, _you._

You feel tears spill from your eyes and you give up holding them back any longer.

"I'm a monster, Jumin," You confess to him, staring at the ceiling, looking _up_. Up toward where you had been taught that a god was watching over you, your words a confession to Him. You drop your gaze to the floor and close your eyes, sobbing. "I'm such a monster."

You don't recognize when, but Elizabeth soon crawls her way onto the bed and paws at your lap, not understanding the reason for your trembling shoulders. Even she, a mere cat, can tell that something is wrong with you. But it's hopeless.

Because she can do nothing to ease your pain.

Your mother has already decided for you: your future is with Chairman Han.

And the one luxury you don't have is disobeying your mother.

More tears spill, and after that point they just keep on coming. You sob silently, cradling Elizabeth in your arms, wishing that she could make the pain go away. It's the first time you've allowed yourself to cry since learning of the engagement—you've held strong on other nights—but after your nightmare, it's too much.

Even Jumin awkwardly places a hand on your shoulder, utterly at a loss for words.

And in his position, who wouldn't be? You've humiliated yourself in front of the man, and all he can feel for you is pity.

Still, you allow yourself to seek comfort from him when he pulls you into an embrace and strokes your hair. It's selfish. So selfish. But you're too weak to pull away, and his arms are so comforting. Even when he whispers "You're not a monster" into your ear, you allow yourself to believe it for a moment, too desperate for relief from this suffering to give him any indication of the truth.

You're not sure when sleep finally comes to you, but it must have been after Jumin because when you next wake, you're still in his arms, in your guest bed.

As your eyelids gradually open, you're able to digest the situation much quicker than the previous morning, and you don't need to look up to know that it's Jumin's chest you're pressed against.

You breathe in his scent, finding it strong and reassuring.

Is this what life will be like with Chairman Han? If the father is anything like his son, then the marriage might be somewhat bearable. In truth, you _like_ having Jumin's arms wrapped around you, and it makes you feel safe and protected and—

And _unfaithful_.

The second the word crosses your mind, you pull yourself back, sitting up on the bed. The sudden motion stirs both Elizabeth and Jumin.

This situation is bad. No, not bad: it's terrible.

You just spent the night with your _fiancé's son_. It doesn't matter that the man is still older than you, that he's closer to the proper age for your lover. Finding comfort in another man's arms when you're engaged is _unfaithful_.

If your mother ever finds out about this night, she'll...no, best not to think about that.

"(Y/N)," Jumin greets you plainly when his eyes open. Then, his brain kicks in. "(Y/N)?" The man stiffens, and he too sits up, pulling his legs back. "Oh gods," He mumbles, evidently regretting the extra wine bottle he downed the previous night. "You...had a nightmare. That's why I am here. Yes. That is all that happened...right? We didn't...?"

"No!" You exclaim, standing up, much to Elizabeth's displeasure. "No," You repeat, more calmly. "Please forget about last night. I'll take some sleeping pills to help with tonight, and it won't happen again, and—"

Jumin grabs your wrist before you can turn away and make an escape. He too stands up, and only then do you realize how he towers over you when he's so close. "No. I will not forget about last night."

You swallow. _Great. Make it even harder for me, why don't you, Jumin?_

"That nightmare was clearly indicative of some major issues you are dealing with. Given that the only major change in your life is the engagement to my father, I think it's obvious that—"

"Don't play psychologist, Jumin. That nightmare was a one-time thing. It was stupid. I had too much wine to drink yesterday, that's all."

A total lie, but Jumin doesn't know about your alcohol tolerance so he shouldn't be able to call your bluff _yet_.

"So I take it that you crying hysterically and calling yourself a monster was also a one-time thing?"

You bite your lip, frowning. You were really hoping that Jumin wouldn't throw that in your face. "The wine," You say, dismissing it with a wave.

"No," Jumin says, grabbing your other wrist before you can walk off. "I understand that you're resilient to speaking about the engagement with me, but it's important that you—"

"No!" You exclaim, stepping back and forcing your hands free. "I'm fine, Jumin," You say. "I'm fine."

You turn around harshly and all but run into the bathroom, where you collapse on the floor and let lose the tears that you've been working so hard to keep hidden.

You reach for the faucet, to turn it on to drown out the sound of your whimpers, but it's too far and your sadness is too profound for you to do anything but curl into yourself and try your best to keep your sobs as silent as possible.

A minute passes, and you're filled with hope, thinking that perhaps Jumin took the hint and has left you alone, but two quiet knocks tell you otherwise.

"(Y/N)," He calls from the other side. "(Y/N), please let me in."

"No," You respond, but your voice betrays you and you _know_ Jumin hears the crack in your voice. Another moment passes in silence, and then you hear the doorknob twist open.

_Perfect_ , you think sarcastically, berating yourself for not pulling yourself off the ground to lock the door. _Just perfect._

But when Jumin kneels on the ground next to you, holding you close and quietly wiping your tears away while stroking your hair, the moment really does feel perfect. There's no doubt, he makes you feel safe and happy and... _unfaithful_.

"You have to go to work, Jumin," You tell the man, thankful for a reason to push him away.

"(Y/N)," He says, looking you dead in the eye. "If you're truly going to marry my father and become a part of my family, then you're more important than C&R."

"My mother won't want me to marry your father if C&R's stock drops, so it's best if you _do_ go to work." You blurt, before realizing with horror what you just confessed.

"Your mother?" Jumin shoots you a questioning look. "Is she the one behind this? Is she why you're doing this?"

"N-no," You respond, quick to cover up your mistake. But your stutter betrays you, and Jumin is too astute to miss it.

He pulls back, eyes wide with the new knowledge. "(Y/N), we both know you don't want this marriage. You're _crying_ for god's sake. If your mother is behind all this, then I can arrange a meeting and this will all be over and eve—"

"No, Jumin," You tell him through tears. "There's nothing you can do for me."

With that, you muster the strength to stand up and you walk out of the bathroom. You don't go far, only making it to the bed where you collapse into the sheets, but you wrap the blankets tightly around you and ignore Jumin's protests next to you.

It feels like hours pass where he sits on your bed, nudging you gently and trying to get you to come out of your fluffy cocoon to speak with him, but he finally leaves, and this time you make no motion to stop him.

You spend the rest of the day in the blankets, drifting in and out of restless sleep, ignoring both Jumin's and Chairman Han's phone calls. You don't have anything to do and you don't want anything to do, but even the dreamworld proves to be too much for you. Six times, you wake, crying, to Elizabeth's innocent blue eyes. _Is this what the rest of my life will be like?_ You wonder, already exhausted, before drifting off once more.

Only this time, your slumber proves to be...peaceful. You can't quite place what it is that keeps the bad dreams away, though at the back of your mind you have your suspicions, but you don't question it.

It's the first restful sleep you've had since learning of your engagement to Chairman Han.

It's almost pleasant.

When you finally stir, you almost don't want to open your eyes. Because you know what you'll see if you do, and the moment you acknowledge the situation is the moment it goes away, and you lose your blanket of security.

But you have to.

You can't be _unfaithful_.

"Jumin," You whisper when your eyes open, meeting his gray eyes as he sits next to you on the bed, stroking your hair like a dreamcatcher warding off all bad thoughts. The man stiffens, but he doesn't move away.

"You were calling out in your sleep when I came home," He explains, brushing your hair out of your face with his thumb while you sit up. "I couldn't leave you."

"Yes, you could've. I don't need your protection." _Lies._ If you could give in to temptation, you would make it so that Jumin never leaves your side and he shields you from his father forever, but that can't happen. You can't _let_ it happen.

"Just make me understand," he murmurs. "Tell me _why_ you're doing this and I can help you. Anything you need, I can give."

"The one thing I need can't be bought," You tell him, regret weighing heavy on your heart. There's nothing you can do to escape this marriage, not with the engagement already agreed upon.

Jumin stays quiet for a moment, before speaking. "(Y/N), I just want to help you." You stay quiet, not responding to his words. But what he says next utterly ruins any semblance of safety he'd provided you with these past few hours. "I've arranged a meeting with your mother. She's agreed to meet us here in two days. My father doesn't know. We can sit down and discuss ho—"

"No!" You exclaim, mortified once your brain processes Jumin's words. "No, Jumin! Please, you can't make me meet with her. Please, you have to cancel the meeting. Jumin, I won't go! _I won't!"_

Tears are pouring down your cheeks again, physical vessels carrying all the emotions you've spent years penting up inside, leaving you a hysterical mess before the composed man. "Please," You sob, clutching Jumin's suit, desperate for him to listen to you. Though in the back of your mind, you already know.

It's too late.

Your mother's last words to you ring out in your ears once more.

_I do not want any calls from you saying that you've messed this up._

And Jumin's already called her.

_Do you hear me? Do not ruin this for us, (Y/N)._

Have you ruined it yet? No, if Chairman Han truly doesn't know about this meeting as Jumin said, then perhaps there's still hope. But will your mother see it that way? No doubt, in her eyes, you're already a failure.

Everything you've done has been with the goal of being the perfect daughter.

You were even willing to go through this torturous marriage to please your parents and escape them.

"Leave," You sob, pushing Jumin's chest away from you, shoving his hands off you. "Leave me alone," You say, and for once the man agrees to your request, and then you're left clutching the blanket through tears and fear, visions of your childhood flashing through your mind.

Only this time, there's no one to comfort you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2.4k
> 
> Notes: Sooo ive been considering changing this from updating on just saturdays to updating on saturdays and wednesdays, so there's a good chance you guys will have Day 4 this wednesday. BUT i sort of injured my finger which makes it painful to write so we might have another week before the new update schedule kicks in...so um yeah >.>
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 4/18/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	4. Day 4

Sleep never comes.

You spend the entire night alert, impossibly aware of every car moving around and every voice coming from apartments below. Your senses are on fire, lit up with fear and terror of what's to come.

And by the way Jumin looks at you in the morning, your lack of sleep _shows_.

"Eat," He says, when his chef brings out an extravagant breakfast. "You look awful."

"Thanks," You mumble sarcastically, not caring about being polite. You clench your jaw when you look down at the food. It's a breakfast fit for a king, a dozen different plates spread between you two. Jumin has placed a portion of baked egg danish with kimchi and bacon onto his plate, and his chef has served him fried eggs with hazelnuts and blackberries. There's a fruit arrangement, two egg and cheese soufflés, and more crumpets than two people would ever be able to consume. And the chef is _still_ placing plates down.

Still, all you can bring to your stomach is a small waffle square that brngs you back to your days in the orphanage, when life had been sweet and peaceful. When your parents hadn't been in the picture.

"Jumin," You begin, voice low. "Before my mom comes. There's something you need to know."

 _There are a lot of things he needs to know_ , You can't help but think. _And if he knew them, he wouldn't have called my mother, but I have to at least tell him this._

"I'm adopted."

He doesn't even take a pause from his breakfast, not bothering to meet your eyes. "I know."

Your eyes widen.

 _How?!_ Your parents have taken every precaution to keep that aspect of their life a secret, never wanting the world to know that they're incapable of producing child.

Jumin must notice the confused look in your eye, though, because he explains: "After you called Luciel...well, I don't know what impression you left him with, but he automatically assumed you were an enemy of mine. He sent me a file on you, thinking that I'd use it to blackmail you to protect myself."

Oh.

No wonder.

The world doesn't know it, but BC-Sonic has invested billions of dollars into user privacy and security, so you'd instantly known that 707, or apparently _Luciel,_ was a top-tier hacker. And then he'd gone back and breached your company's security _two more times_ until BC-Sonic had shifted its algorithms completely. So there's no real surprise that he'd been able to uncover the details of your adoption.

But what else does Luciel know? And more importantly..."What else was in the file?"

Jumin flicks a bored eye up at you, thinking. "Nothing noteworthy. It went in chronological order, so your adoption was the first thing I saw. I didn't look at it much after that point."

A small smile finds its way to your face, despite the situation. Even when he doesn't have to, Jumin always seems to find a way to be a gentleman.

"Can I see the file?" You ask hopefully, _needing_ to know the depth of Luciel's information.

"I already returned it back to him," Jumin responds. "Why? Was there something specific you wanted to know?"

You swallow. Jumin has now stopped eating, putting all his attention on you. Underneath his piercing gaze, you can't help yourself. "Did it say anything about..."

_Child abuse?_

"...Nevermind," You say quickly, cutting a waffle square and shoving it into your mouth so you have an excuse not to speak.

It's bad enough that Jumin may piece together the truth at the meeting with your mother tomorrow, you have no intentions of bringing it up any earlier than necessary.

"Should I take the day off?" Jumin inquires after a moment. "I've already cleared my schedule for tomorrow, and my assistant should be able to move my meetings for today."

"Why would you need to take today off?" You ask, unable to hide your irritance. "I'm fine."

"Of all the words to describe you right now, fine is not one of them."

You shoot Jumin another glare, but you know he's right. Last night was one of the first sleepless nights you've had in a _long_ time, and your body is not adjusting well. And it doesn't help that every time you think about seeing your mother, the pit in your stomach gets even deeper. But still: you don't want Jumin risking his reputation at C&R on your account.

"There's nothing you can do for me by staying home," You blurt, not caring about how rude it sounds. "Go. We'll see each other in the evening."

Jumin opens his mouth in protest, but you give him no chance, standing up and leaving the room as quickly as possible. A bubble of guilt begins to rise in the depths of your consciousness, where you know that Jumin is simply doing all he can to make sure that both you and his father are happy...but he knows too little of the truth.

 _And he has too much power_ , you can't help but think.

That is the one spot of hope you have—that your mother, even if she hurts you tomorrow, won't do it in front of Jumin. She can't possibly be that bold, can she? Not in front of a man with such powerful influence. Even if the meeting brings you pain, it'll be in private, without Jumin ever finding out.

 _I can only hope_ , you think absentmindedly. You hear the front door close, signifying Jumin's leave.

You sigh.

Heart heavy with a need to distract yourself before you start shamefully crying once more, you turn to entertainment to preoccupy your thoughts. What should you watch? The Big Mermaid? Cinderemma? The Lion Prince? You turn the TV on and scroll through the titles before selecting Beauty and the Feast, a heartwarming tale about a comely woman and her neverending appetite.

But the moment the credits start rolling, your mind darts back to thoughts of your childhood, and all the pain you'd endured. Absentmindedly, you bring a hand down to your outer thigh and massage the spot, a motion you've done hundreds of times before to soothe yourself.

 _No_ , you tell yourself, angrily shifting your hand away. _I need to leave those memories_ — _and those habits_ — _in the past. As soon as tomorrow is over, Mother will never lay a hand on me again and I can forget everything. For real, this time._

You turn on One Hundred and One Damnations and force your mind into the setting of the movie, repeating the pattern over and over again until the entire day has gone by like that: angrily binging children's' movies to distract yourself from reality.

You don't even notice that Jumin has returned until he awkwardly coughs. "Is this how you spent your day?" He inquires, one eyebrow raised.

"Better than nightmares all day like yesterday," You respond plainly, scooting over on the couch. You pat the spot expectantly, and Jumin regards you with mild amusement before walking off. You pout for a moment, but then he returns, now with his blazer off and tie loosened. The man sets two wine glasses on the coffee table and pours himself a glass of red, leaving you a glass on the table in case you desire it.

And just like that, you hit the play button and the movie continues.

Except that this time, each time your mind gets pulled away from the movie, it's not your mother you think about. It's the businessman himself: _Jumin_.

His expression is relaxed, from the wine or the movie you don't know. Even his usually sharp gaze is now softened as he watches Ponald Puck stomp around on the screen. You can't tell if he's actually invested in the movie or not, because every now and then his gaze drifts to the windowed wall, where there's a beautiful sunset, or to the chandelier looming above your heads, or to his reflection in the wine; but there's something utterly mesmerizing about watching him.

 _He's handsome,_ you realize. How is it that you've never noticed it before?

It's only the few times that his gaze actually shifts to _you_ that you move your eyes away to focus on the movie, though your thoughts drift back to him soon enough.

"You should sleep," Jumin says quietly, when a new batch of credits rolls onto the screen for the sixth time.

"I don't want sleep," You respond. Though you're certain he understands your real meaning. _I don't want nightmares_.

Jumin sighs, taking the remote away from you before you can put on another movie. "(Y/N), it's been over twenty-four hours since you last slept. Considerably longer than that, actually. This can't be good for your health."

"I'll make it work."

Before Jumin can answer, your phone begins to buzz. You pull it up, and the entire screen is lit up with Chairman Han's contact picture.

You stiffen. Taking his call is the _last_ thing you want to deal with, right now.

Next to you, Jumin places his wine glass down on the coffee table. His soft gaze flits over you before he takes the phone from your hand. "Hello, father? Ah yes...(Y/N) is already asleep, she left her phone on the table. Of course. Very well, I'm taking the day off tomorrow but I'll tell my assistant to set up a meeting. Oh, no reason...Yes. You as well. Good night."

Jumin hangs up and places the phone next to the wine glass, making no mention of what he just did.

You avert your eyes. "Thank you," You tell him, your voice quiet enough to have been lost in the light breeze from the ceiling fan.

Jumin sighs and turns, all of his attention centered on you. But for once, his gaze isn't calculating as he looks at you, or even sharp. His expression is different tonight, a stormy sky of passionate thunder and lustful wind swirling and mixing all in his gray eyes.

"You can talk to me," He tells you gently, after staring at you for what feels like hours.

Somehow he's managed to pin you to your spot with his eyes alone, and as much as you want to give in—to tell him the truth about your horrid childhood and all your fears of the life you're getting into with Chairman Han—you _know_ that you can't burden him like that. This is your weight to bear, and your life to manage.

"No, Jumin." You tell him. "I can't."

His jaw clenches momentarily and he looks down. In turn, you sigh, hating yourself for denying him. But you have to do it. You can't give in. You _can't_.

"I want to help you, (Y/N)."

"We don't need to talk for that. Just..." You bring your gaze up to Jumin's, and when your eyes meet you pull your gaze away, staring at your hands. There's only one thing you can ask of Jumin. "Just be here for me."

"Okay," He says, bringing his head lower so that his forehead is resting against yours. "I'm here."

It's...oddly peaceful.

Neither of you move. With each passing second, you feel the weight of your memories and the fears of your future slowly fade, until you're not thinking about them at all and all that remains is the present.

Your breathing slows, and you release a sigh of content when Jumin wraps his larger hands around yours, slowly caressing each finger before rubbing soothing circles on the soft skin. Your mind feels completely empty, devoid of thoughts of your mother and Chairman Han. All that exists in the moment is you.

And him.

And his hand, as it rises to your cheek.

And his thumb, as he delicately tilts your chin upward so that you're meeting his eyes, the blueish grays never being as soft and tender as now. Whatever storm of emotion that was in them before is now cleared. All that remains a silent question: _Is this okay?_

And as you both lean forward, all that exists is his lips on yours, so gentle and loving but tender with promises of more to come, and nothing can shatter the infinitely precious moment.

Somewhere, in the distance, you hear one of Jumin's clocks strike twelve times.

 _Midnight_.

But even so, as Jumin brings a hand to cup your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, neither of you can bring yourselves to care, and even time doesn't exist in the perfect world you're both immersed in: the worlds of _each other_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2.1k
> 
> Notes: So...If you follow my other fic Where Futures Begin, you'd notice that I haven't been updating....and that's because I physically cannot type with my left hand at all without the process being 10x slower >.> I've been able to keep updating on this story because I've had some prewritten chapters, but Day 5 will probably be on the shorter side if my hand doesn't heal :( My hand is also the reason i've been posting more oneshot fics, I've just been going through drafts and making minor edits >.> I'm sorry for the inconvenience!
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 4/25/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	5. Day 5

How much time passes before you understand what's happening? How long is it before a thought finally finds it way back into your stupid, foolish head, and you realize the _consequences_ of kissing the son of the man you're engaged to?

Too much time.

You're on top of Jumin, straddling him with two legs on either side of him. His kisses are slow. Passionate. Lips trailing down to your neck, he sucks on the skin ever-so-gently, and it's only when you hear the lewd sound of your own _moan_ that reality hits you.

You stiffen.

And Jumin notices.

"(Y/N)...?" Jumin asks, raising his eyes to yours.

"We can't do this," You murmur breathlessly. "We can't. I'm engaged. _To your father."_

With those final words, Jumin's eyes widen the slightest—as if he too had forgotten the fact—and you pull yourself off him. But he pulls your wrist before you can leave the couch.

"That can change."

The man's eyes are earnest, as if he genuinely believes what he's saying. _But he doesn't know the truth._ "We're meeting your mother tomorrow, no, _today._ In twelve hours, she'll be here, and you'll be free of your engagement and we can..."

You turn to Jumin. "We can what? What is there for us to do?"

"This," Jumin murmurs, stealing a chaste kiss from your lips. You let the moment linger, basking in its tranquility, before pulling away.

"My mother won't let me cancel the engagement, Jumin." You cast your eyes low on the ground. "My personal desires don't matter. I _can't_ go against her wishes."

"You can." Jumin encourages.

"No, Jumin. I can't." You stand up, brushing past him to get to your room, ignoring even Elizabeth's innocent _meow_ in your haste to hide your tears. Only when you get to your room do you allow them to fall, whimpering softly over your own inability to control your fate.

You press your back to the door and slide down it, trying your hardest to keep your cries quiet.

It's not fair.

Your whole life, you've been the _perfect_ daughter. Even your mother had struggled to find excuses to take her anger out on you, until your father had sacrificed his life to save you from being hit by a car. From that moment onward, she had only needed one reason to hurt you: the fact that you were even alive.

Pitiful, isn't it?

It was a drunk driver who ruined your life so.

But your mother was still furious.

 _She loved Father,_ you realize bitterly. After that whole escapade with Jumin, you had your first taste of what a true relationship would feel like—if only it weren't forbidden to you—and you'd come to realize that whatever your mother felt for your father was akin to your feelings for Jumin.

 _It's not fair._ You think, choking back a sob. It's all so unfair. Why must you pursue Chairman Han when you would be so much happier with someone else? You bite your lip as your mind automatically fills in the blank. Why must you pursue Chairman Han when you would be so much happier with _Jumin?_

The media would love it. The corporate heirs of BC-Sonic and C&R uniting in holy matrimony to pave the way not only their families but the enterprising future of their companies.

 _And Jumin's actually my age,_ you think, scoffing at the fact that he's _still_ older than you.

You sigh.

You've stayed with Jumin barely five days, and he's already been the perfect gentleman. _The perfect husband._ And from those kisses, it's obvious that he wouldn't be opposed to a relationship with you.

Your heart feels a little bit lighter when you think about the prospect of a future with Jumin. It would be a future free of everything you'd been chained down to since your adoption.

It would be a perfect future.

 _But it's a future I can't have,_ you think bitterly, before dragging yourself to bed.

And that thought lurks in your mind for the rest of the night, through early morning, and during breakfast when you and Jumin sit opposite each other, separated only by the extravagant sea of dishes prepared by his private chef.

He sits across from you, already handsome and ready in suit and tie, despite it still being early morning. He cuts into an onion and cheese omelet, expression calm and controlled.

Even when he doesn't try, he's perfect.

 _And I can't have him_.

"(Y/N)..." Jumin trails off, interrupting the silence. "We should speak. About last night."

You bite your lip. On the list of the many things that kept you up last night, this impending conversation was ranked high.

"Last night was a mistake, Jumin. We can't let it happen again."

"You expect me to believe you truly desire my father over me?"

"I expect you to understand that I _have to_ desire your father over you."

You hate the bluntness of your voice, and how stern your responses are to Jumin's gentle questions, but you have to be firm. Because even a moment of weakness may lead to a recap of yesterday's events. And you can't let that happen.

Breakfast passes by quickly.

Too quickly, for your liking.

 _By lunchtime Mother will be here_ , you realize with a start. And for the first time since your arrival in this apartment, time seems to fly by. You do everything in your power to make things feel slower, the most mundane of tasks that make minutes feel like hours. But nothing works.

For the first time, as you close BC-Sonic's feedback logs, you find that the four hours you spent reviewing department productivity rates _flew by_ and you have scarcely fifteen minutes before your mother's expected arrival.

And she's never late.

So all you can do it wait.

Jumin tries to maintain a facade of calmness, but you can tell by the way he's constantly straightening his tie that even he's nervous to meet your mother. Is he regretting inviting her here?

 _He should_ , you think, memories of childhood abuse flooding through your mind. The sheer thought prompts your hand down, where you massage the damaged skin on your outer thigh before you forcefully move it away.

_The past is the past. And after this meeting, it will be behind me._

In another room, Jumin's grandfather clock chimes twelve times.

_Midday. Noon. 12 o'clock._

Twelve hours ago, you'd been on this same couch, arms wrapped around Jumin without a care in the world. Now, all your thoughts are of the diamond ring on your finger and a single _knock_.

Your mother.

She only ever knocks once, too certain of her status to ever bother with more. _It's an insult that I even have to knock_ , she'd told you once when you asked her why.

Your eyes dart up to Jumin, who instantly gets up and walks to open the door.

"Hello, Mrs. (L/N)." His tone is courteous, charming even, and your mother glances at him, eyes wary and cigarette in hand. You can see the distrust in her eyes, but she finally responds with a polite nod, her voice laced with only a thin tone of superiority.

"You were very discreet over the phone, Jumin," Your mother says as she places her purse on the couch opposite you, seating herself. Even with Jumin in the room, you can't help but feel like the same seventeen-year-old girl you'd been the last time she'd hurt you.

So much time has passed since then.

But only the exterior scars had healed. Inside, you're just as frightened now as you were then.

"I was wondering if we could discuss the details of (Y/N)'s engagement to my father over lunch," Jumin states calmly, and you try your best not to let your terror show on your face.

"Oh?" Your mother turns to Jumin, and you're relieved that she's not directing her question at you. Your palms as already sweaty and you can feel your threadbare thoughts loping into knots as you try to calm yourself. "And what could there be to discuss about two people in love?"

Jumin swallows, evidently not prepared for your mother's show of ignorance. A moment of silence passes before he speaks.

"I think that's the matter to discuss itself: whether these two people are indeed in love."

"It's very bold of you to make these claims, Jumin." Your mother says, smiling and taking a puff of her cigarette. Her smile is empty, though, and you can hear the hissing snake of accusation in her words. "What do you have to say about this, (Y/N)?"

Your mother turns to you, and her (e/c) eyes have never been so intense as they are now. Her gaze is penetrating as she stares you down, challenging you.

"W-well," You stutter, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. "I think...that love...is a very strong word."

"Do you doubt that Chairman Han loves you?" Your mother states.

"N-not at all. I never mea—"

"Then it's only right that you should return his feelings wholeheartedly." Your mother offers you a smile, and her expression is prideful. _I win_ , you can almost hear her say.

You can't bring yourself to say anything else. All you've said to her for the past two and a half decades has been in agreement with her. You'd been trained to tell her "Yes Mother" and "As you wish" without any hint of resistance.

Even if you knew what to say to her, you doubt you'd have the courage to.

Thankfully, Jumin steps in.

"For the sake of my father, I think that it'd be wiser to postpone the engagement until a time when (Y/N)'s feelings are more...developed. If such a time should come, then I think all parties involved would be pleased to watch her and my father partake in the marriage."

" _If_ such a time should come? Jumin, are you doubting my daughter's feelings for your father? That's quite rude, I must say. If I were you, I'd apologize to (Y/N) at once for such a _callous_ comment."

A fire lights inside you, at your mother's rudeness to Jumin. His eyes are round in surprise as he looks at you, and you fear that your mother's words have already gotten to him, so you speak before he can.

"Mother, Jumin is right."

The moment those words leave your lips, it's as if the apartment has dropped ten degrees. It feels like winter, and the chill _rage_ radiating off your mother is truly terrifying. Her glare is ice cold, and you pull your eyes away. Instead, you look at Jumin who offers you a nod of encouragement for what you're about to say.

"I don't want to marry Chairman Han."

With those words, Jumin smiles at you. You can tell that he's proud you finally mustered up the courage to tell your mother the truth...but the moment you turn your gaze back upon your mother, you quickly realize that the truth isn't going to be enough.

"You think I don't already know that, (Y/N)?" Your mother drops her cigarette on the ground, lighting a new one before taking a sharp puff. "Very well. It seems I have to remind you why you obey me. Jumin, lock the door."

 _No_...

"Pardon? The chef will be in with appetizers any moment now, so—"

"Lock the door."

_Not in front of Jumin..._

"(Y/N), strip."

_Please don't..._

"Now."

But your body betrays you, and you're no longer a proud businesswoman in her twenties. You're back to being the same foolish child your mother spent years abusing, and your fear won't let you do anything but obey.

With shaking hands, you remove your top.

"(Y-Y/N)!" Jumin sputters out, his temporary shock overridden by the sight of you _actually_ meeting your mother's absurd request. "This is madness, don't—"

"This is the real world, Jumin." The snake that had been hiding behind your mother's words had finally come to play, and it was a hissing monster, vicious as it was cruel. "You made the decision to get in the way of my relationship with my daughter, so now you will see the consequences of your actions. Very good, (Y/N). Stand up."

Now wearing nothing more than your delicate (f/c) panties and a bra, you force yourself to stand, ignoring the vigor at which your legs are shaking. You keep your eyes fixated forward, unable to look at your mother or Jumin or anything else that might make your tears fall.

Your mother approaches you, ignoring Jumin and his attempts to stop her.

Even then, as he stands in front of your mother, telling her how ridiculous she's being, he doesn't understand the severity of the situation. _For such a shrewd businessman, he still doesn't realize what's happening_.

Your mother approaches you, drawing the cigarette from her lips.

And then you see the realization dawn on Jumin's face. _He figured it out._ Why you'd been terrified of your mother, why you were marrying Chairman Han at her request, why you had begged him to cancel today's meeting.

 _Child abuse_.

At least, it had _been_ child abuse. Once you turned eighteen, your mother decided that she had enough power over you to free you from the shackles of pain, and your skin had begun to heal, the burns fading into scars.

Until today.

Your mother twists your neck painfully and forces you to look her straight in the eye as she presses the hot end of the cigarette down against the familiar spot on your thigh. _The scars had just begun to fade_ , you think helplessly as tears ran down your cheeks, the pain familiar but excruciating nonetheless.

You stood paralyzed before her as she continued to dig the hot stub into your upper thigh, bringing back years of memories from when you'd stood before her just like this with no escape before her merciless hands.

But Jumin steps in.

"Mrs. (L/N)!" He practically shouts, all but yanking your body away from your mother to pull your smaller form into his. Now he, too, is trembling, but he wraps his arms protectively around you. "Security! SECU—"

"Jumin," Your mother interrupts, a threatening glare on her face. She drops the cigarette she was holding onto the floor and pulls a lighter from her purse. With a single flick of the thumb, a flame has appeared. She holds it dangerously close to your skin. "Call your guards, and I will make _certain_ that (Y/N) here endures much worse than anything she's had to handle with me. You both need to accept the truth. (Y/N) _will_ marry Chairman Han. That is final."

Your mother returns to her seat on the couch, acting as if nothing had just happened, casually lighting another cigarette.

"Mrs. (L/N)," Jumin pleads. "Why are you doing this? _I_ am the corporate heir to C&R, a marriage with me would be far more beneficial than o-"

"Oh? You want to marry each other? You two children are in love, is that it?" Your mother's smile is unamused. "Yes...I was in love with (Y/N)'s father before she _ruined_ everything. Whatever affair you have going on here makes no difference. The press statement was released yesterday. I've already spoken to Chairman Han. He wishes to wed you immediately, (Y/N)."

"How immediate?" Jumin voices your thoughts, and you're so relieved that at least he has the courage to speak. The last of your strength sizzled with the cigarette your mother drove into your thigh.

"More immediate than you'd think. If I were you, I'd give your father a call. It seems that C&R is in some serious trouble," Your mother smiles pleasantly, confident once more in her power over you. "And he wishes to tie the knot with BC-Sonic down as quickly as possible to minimize damage. There's nothing either of you can do to change that."

Your mother stands up, confident that with her decision, this 'meeting' is concluded. "Do not call me again, Jumin. Apart from seeing (Y/N) at her wedding, I do not wish to see either of your faces ever again."

Your mother doesn't bother bidding either of you farewell, simply taking her leave. She's finished what she came here for and reasserted her power over you in the process with that cigarette.

Your eyes drop to the familiar spot on your thigh where the old scars have been further uglified by the fresh mark. At the very sight of the burned skin, you lose the last strength in your legs. If not for Jumin's quick reaction, you would have collapsed.

"(Y/N)?" He murmurs, holding you up. He uses his thumb to wipe your tears away. " _Shit._ Please don't cry, (Y/N), please." Jumin cradles you, and you let out a distressed sob.

You'd thought you were finally free, but your mother just demonstrated that it doesn't matter how far you flee or who you're with—the abuse will never end.

"Everything will be okay," Jumin murmurs, picking you up and carrying you bridal style. You continue to cry into his chest. _Nothing will be okay._ If your future had been sealed before, now it's airtight. Your mother won't let you do anything to change that.

You whimper as Jumin sets you down on the cold countertop in the kitchen, still half-naked. You tremble when he momentarily steps away, but Jumin is quick to pull you back into his arms once he has an ice cube in his hand. The kiss of the ice is biting as he rubs circles into your thigh, but it's still nothing compared to the pain of when she was actively harming you.

"Everything will be okay," Jumin repeats.

 _No, it won't_ , you want to scream at him, but your current state renders you unable to do anything more than tremble in his arms.

Before you register it, Jumin has carried you to what you imagine is his bedroom, lying you delicately under the several blankets. He never releases you, never halts his ministrations with the ice, never stops wiping your tears away.

He doesn't leave your side, not even for a second.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)" Jumin murmurs once your cries have died down. "If I'd known that she'd...I wouldn't have...it's my fault. I'm so sorry."

You offer Jumin a weak smile, hating the expression of guilt he's wearing. _He looks better when he's smiling._

"Don't blame yourself," You finally manage to say. "It's over. She's gone, and I won't need to see her for a long time."

At the back of your mind, you recall her words about Chairman Han. _He wishes to wed you immediately._

"The future might be set in stone, but we have the present, don't we?" You say weakly, smiling up at Jumin.

"Don't think like that," He protests, pulling you up so he can look you directly in the eyes. "I'll get you out of this. You don't need to marry my father. You can marry...someone different."

"Someone like you, you mean?" You respond. The very thought brings a smile to your face. "I can't. I'm destined to be with your father. It's...it's for the best."

"Best for _who?_ If you marry my father, only he gets happiness, and that's _if_ you manage to convince him that you're genuinely in love with him. That's one person. But if we were to be together," Jumin brings a hand to cup your cheek. "Then the _two_ of us are happy."

"When I wed your father, it won't just be him who's happy. It'll be the whole world. And the media. Everyone in C&R. And...and I think it'll make my mother happy."

Jumin instantly frowns when he hears that last part. "How could you compromise your own happiness for _hers?_ She's _abusive_ , (Y/N). She just _burned you_ with a ci—"

"She's my mother," You say firmly.

"Adoptive mother."

"Exactly. She _chose_ me because she wanted me to bring her happiness...and I stole her happiness when Father protected me from that car and sacrificed his life for mine. If I can give her even a little bit of it back..."

"Don't do this," Jumin whispers. "Don't let yourself get trapped in the guilt."

You sigh.

"I don't have any other choice, Jumin. If I displease Mother, you _know_ what will happen."

"I'd protect you," Jumin murmurs, his voice getting desperate. "I'd do everything I could for you."

But you can't accept his love.

"I know you would, Jumin." You tell him, leaning your forehead against his as you did just last night. Only this time, the atmosphere is gloomy and miserable, both your minds heavy with the knowledge that your futures lies not in each other, but along separate paths.

And no amount of love, passion, or desire will be able to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3.5k
> 
> Notes: Woohooo! My hand has (mostly) healed and I am back in action! All the ideas have been stacking up - you're going to get so much content from me these next few days. :D And this series will officially begin updating on Saturdays AND Wednesdays! Whooopeeee! (sorry im so happy to finally be able to write again)
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 4/29/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	6. Day 6

**_BREAKING NEWS: C &R Chairman Han to wed BC-Sonic's Corporate Heir?!_ **

_After a tip from an anonymous source, it has been newly confirmed that corporate heir (F/N) (L/N) has is engaged to C &R's Chairman Han, and has been for the past eight months! Looking through recent media footage, several sources have discovered multiple pictures and instances of these business lovebirds on various romantic getaways in these past few months. There has been a noted increase in sightings over the past few days of the lovers as they prepared for what we just learned is their approaching wedding date—a short four days from today!_

_"They wanted the wedding to be a private affair," A reliable source, wishing to remain anonymous, has informed us. "They were worried that if the media caught wind of their plans, then their relationship would suddenly be under scrutiny. But now that the date of the official wedding is so close, no one can keep the surprise any longer!"_

_The wedding is currently set to be in a private location, the two business typhoons wishing to keep the ceremony as intimate and secretive as their discreet relationship thus far; but now that this news has reached the media world, every outlet in Korea is abuzz with excitement for their future!_

_There is currently an interview scheduled with Chairman Han on the 12th, just after the wedding. Tune in to this outlet channel to watch the interview LIVE as he reveals all the exciting details of the relationship he's managed to keep secret for so long and stay tuned for a followup article to reveal all the juicy details!_

With the number of times you've reread this article, you should be able to recite the whole thing from memory, but your mind simply _cannot_. You can't process it. Your brain can't begin to comprehend the utter, ridiculous possibility that _this_ is real.

You drop the phone Jumin had handed to you on the table, leaning back in your chair. For once, he doesn't say anything and leaves your mind to process what you just read.

 _They got so many details wrong_ , you think. It's the media, shady and unreliable, so the severe drought of truth in the article was rather unsurprising. But the sheer confidence at which the information was delivered made even the lies seem convincing.

_Eight months. They said I've been with Chairman Han for eight months._

If not for the severity of the situation, you would scoff at that fact alone. The two of you have been engaged less than eight days, and the 'multiple' pictures showing the two of you together weren't linked anywhere in the article, an obvious nod to the fact that you two had yet to even meet each other during that time.

But the biggest lie is even more troubling.

The words still bounce around in your mind, numb and daunting. _Wedding date. Approaching._

You swallow.

_Four days from today._

You close your eyes, shutting them before any tears can form and escape. You don't need Jumin to see you cry _again_.

But the man can practically read your mind.

"(Y/N)," He murmurs, placing a comforting hand over your trembling one. "Don't..."

But even Jumin can't complete the sentence.

Don't _what?_

This article isn't the only one popping up on headlines today. There are at least a dozen other articles, all quoting the same anonymous source, and you're quite confident that, if you turn on the television, you'll see features talking about your love life there, too.

The article said it.

All of Korea is abuzz.

And there are only a few people in this world who have the power to do such a thing.

You clench your jaw. _Anonymous source._ After meeting with the woman just yesterday, what other person can this mystery person be?

"Why would my mother leak these details to the public?" You ask, voice breaking in the middle.

Jumin knows the answer.

He also knows that you know the answer.

But you want him, you _need_ him, to lie to you. To tell you that maybe it isn't true. That you aren't going to be marrying Chairman Han in four days. That your mother didn't inform the media as a cruel Checkmate against you, tying you down to the future that the world now expects of you.

Jumin is quiet.

You clench your fists, too horrified by the situation presented in front of you to even relax as the man squeezes your hand tenderly. You close your eyes, trying to think and find a way out of this situation.

And ridiculous as it seems, there's only one thing you can think of.

Something stupid.

Something you should have done a long time ago.

Pulling yourself out of Jumin's arms, you force yourself into a standing position, hoping that the assertive pose will give you the courage you need as you dial Chairman Han's number. The moment he picks up, you don't even give him the chance to bid you his usual "Hello darling," cutting straight to the point.

You take a deep breath.

"I don't love you."

***

Somewhere, in the distance, your father watches the scene playing out before him in the afterlife. Heaven is supposed to be a place of joy, he's been told, but ever since arriving here, he has only been brought misery at seeing all the paint that befell you after his death.

A tear slides down his cheek.

He's so proud of you for having the courage to tell your betrothed the truth: of your unwillingness in this godforsaken marriage.

But then another tear slides down, and another, and the man is quietly sobbing as he continues to watch the scene before him.

It's too late for you, he knows.

It's too late.

***

"I know, my darling."

Your eyes widen at Chairman Han's words, turning to Jumin in shock. The man seems just as surprised as you are at the words, though on his face, confusion overrides everything else. You can hear the gears turning in his head as he thinks: his father _knows?_ This can't be happening, right? This _can't._

"But in time, you will come to appreciate me as much as I do you." Chairman Han continues. "There's no other solution. Your mother sees it as much as I do, and while it will be difficult at first, things will definitely sort out. You will be happy in the end, my child. Truly."

Silence.

You know that Chairman Han is waiting for a response from you, but you can't think of anything to say. He _knows_ you don't love him, and he still intends on continuing with the engagement?

In your state of shock, Jumin takes over.

"Father, what is the meaning of this?" His voice is controlled, but there's no mistaking the raw fury that lurks in between every word. "Surely you do not intend on marrying a girl who is unwilling?"

"She may not wish it now, but in time she will see that this is the best thing for her," Comes the Chairman's response, loud and clear. "If anything, Jumin, you should be the one to understand my situation here. You _know_ of the...issues C&R has been facing, the very reason why I'm in international waters right now!"

"That?" Jumin's nostrils flare, and your ears perk up. _C &R is facing issues? _You knew that Chairman Han had left because of something serious, but what could be so ridiculous that the only solution he sees is _marriage?_

"As an independent company, C&R's stock will drop five days from now when the press statement and the details of this data breach get released. We need as much positive PR as we can get right now—this is to benefit _your_ future, my son."

And then, it clicks.

Everything.

Your mother, she seeks to torment you. To return to you all the pain that you caused her when your father protected you from a drunk driver and lost his life. That's why she's so on-board with this situation.

On the other hand, you'd thought that Chairman Han wanted to marry you because he had taken an actual liking to you, and perhaps he had. In the _beginning_.

Now, it's obvious.

It's not a marriage Chairman Han seeks.

It's the cushion that the marriage will provide.

Marrying you, to him, will be a safety net.

Linking BC-Sonic and C&R will automatically ensure that his company doesn't go under, no matter how large the scandal caused by the data breach C&R suffered. Moreover, the current benefits that both BC-Sonic and C&R are facing are immense, the amount of media coverage going into investigating the details of your supposed "love life" only further advertising both companies and raising their value.

The rise caused by the media hype around your two companies will offset any losses that C&R takes when the public learns of this data breach, and the empire that Chairman Han has worked so hard to build will be safe.

And on top of that, he gets a pretty and young wife out of it.

"Father, you cannot be serious." Jumin looks terrifying now, pure wrath dripping into his every word. You wish that Chairman Han could be here now and see his son in front of him, see the distress that he is causing. "Do not marry (Y/N) for the sake of your _business._ "

"Our business, Jumin."

"I would rather have no company to inherit than to inherit a company that was saved through _you_ ruining an innocent girl's life."

"Goodness, Jumin! I am not ruining her life," Chairman Han defends. "She may not love me today, but she definitely will in the future. You know I will treat her well. I'm telling the truth."

And angry as Jumin is, you're shocked to find that even he does not contest that statement—though you're not sure if that's because it's the truth or because the man's judgment is being shrouded by the fact that he's dealing with his own father.

"Father, if it is the PR that you seek..." Jumin's voice wavers uncharacteristically, his tone desperate. "Please let her marry me instead. It will have the same benefits you seek."

You know you should pretend to be surprised, but you're too tired to put up an act. These past six days have shown you an entirely new world with Jumin, a world that you never want to leave.

You love him. And you know he feels the same way.

No doubt, you adore the idea of spending the rest of your life with him.

"You love her?" Chairman Han asks.

"Yes." Jumin doesn't hesitate. His father, however, does.

It's a long time before the man's response finally comes, but the weight of his words seems to sink your entire world. "I'm sorry, my son. Your hand in marriage is to be saved for separate business pursuits, and the public already knows about the two of us, and..."

You tune out the rest of Chairman Han's words, only aware of the fact that, other than Jumin, no one is on your side.

And now that Chairman Han has made his priorities clear, nothing can save you from your future.

"Please, put her back on the phone. This wedding will do no harm to any of us—it simply quickens things. (Y/N) and I were to marry from the very start, and we're going to be doing just that."

Jumin bites his lip, internal conflict glowing darkly in his grey eyes.

You can see his turmoil over having to accept his father's words or fight against them. Your heart softens. Just as weak as you are in front of your own mother, Jumin seems to harbor the same soft spot for his father.

You sigh.

Jumin has done so much for you.

It's time for you to accept that this is beyond your hands.

Gently, you take the phone from him. "Fine," You murmur into the microphone. You keep the words coming steadily, not giving Chairman Han a single chance to interrupt you. "I will marry you in four days. Send me the details over text, and please have all arrangements ready. Do not call me until then, do not contact me until then. Say what you will to the media—I'll marry you. But, Chairman Han, I do _not_ love you."

You hang up the call, somewhat shocked that you even had to courage to say those words. They were so bold. So unnaturally bold, coming from you.

Then again, nothing about this situation is natural.

Closing your eyes, you slink back into your seat.

So much has changed over the course of these past few days.

Too much.

Just yesterday, when your mother had left the apartment, you'd been so willing. You'd truly accepted your fate. Resigned yourself to the fact that your life would be spent with the Chairman, as your mother wished.

You knew that you would have to marry Chairman Han.

But now, things are happening too quickly.

And...

"I don't want to marry him, Jumin." Your voice is small as you say the words. "I don't want him."

_I want you._

"I know," Jumin murmurs. For once, he doesn't fight back or try to offer you any way out of the situation, now that he, too, knows how futile it is.

Fighting against one parent was one thing, but for both to be in on it?

Nothing could have prepared him for this, just as nothing could have prepared you.

"We have three days," You murmur quietly to Jumin. It's a silent proposition.

Three days until the day of your marriage, three days for the two of you to bask in what you both recognize as newfound love. Why, six days have already been wasted—you don't want to sacrifice even a minute.

Jumin turns to you, eyes focused. "I'll take these days off, then." He comes close to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You _do_ want this, correct?"

You nod your head.

You don't just want this. You _need_ it.

And then Jumin's lips are on yours, as tender and delicate as the very first time you'd kissed.

You kiss back with a strange sense of solemnity, noting how this kiss is different from the previous ones. It's sad, the tear stains on your cheek moistening Jumin's own face. It's pained, with the knowledge that the two of you won't have the rest of your lives to continue kissing and loving each other. It's yearning, yearning for more of each other and more time to appreciate each other.

But most of all: it's helpless.

Because at last, the two of you have come to terms with the truth: you're soon going to be sealed away in marriage to another, and Jumin will meet a similar fate.

You can't belong to each other.

But, perhaps, for these next few days, you can forget that truth.

You gasp lightly as Jumin wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring the word "Jump" huskily into your mouth. You don't waste a moment in complying and wrapping your legs around the man as he walks you to his room, pressing you against the wall. He keeps you pinned upright with his body, kisses trailing lower and lower until his mouth is settled over a familiar spot over your neck.

He sucks.

Your moan is breathless as it leaves your lips.

Jumin continues, slowly pulling articles of clothing off of you until you're entirely naked for him, only your underwear separating him from unleashing all his lust upon you. His eyes are hungry, starved for contact and starved for _you_ as he gazes down upon your exposed form.

You can't belong to Jumin.

But for these next few days, that doesn't matter. For these next few days, you're his, and he's yours.

And as he tosses you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to continue leaving love marks all over your body, you can already sense that he plans on showing you all the love and lust and passion and happiness of your would-be life together in the short time you have remaining.

So with thoughts of Chairman Han and your mother pushed far to the back of your mind, you yank Jumin by his tie and pull his lips back onto yours, savoring the contact.

For these next three days, nothing will be able to pull you from him.

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2.8k
> 
> Notes: i havent seen my best friend in over a month and i hate it
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 5/06/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	7. Day 7

You don't talk about it.

_"Let me forget,"_ You'd whispered into Jumin's ear yesterday as he hovered over you. His body was naked and his eyes were filled with desire, but he still had the restraint enough to ask if you were 'sure about this.' _"Make it so that I only think of you."_

At the time, you'd said the words in reference to the _activities_ the two of you were about to partake in, but Jumin seems to have taken them to heart. For the rest of the day—even when you both were out of bed and awkwardly trying to cook yourselves a romantic dinner—Jumin never left your side.

Indeed, for that brief time, all that mattered was that he was with you. Smiling at you. Loving you.

_But that can't last._

You sigh, staring out the windowed wall of Jumin's penthouse. On your second day here, you'd spent a morning similar to this one: just staring out, watching taxis go by, the early-morning people move about, lights from buildings far off flicker on and off. It feels somewhat surreal to have so much going on with zero repercussions to you.

It makes you feel detached.

"My love?" Jumin asks, his voice still carrying traces of his morning drowsiness. Your first days here, the man had been nothing short of pristine in the mornings, maintaining his businessman facade of perfection. At last, though, he's allowed you to see the real him: bedhead, pajamas, and all.

"I didn't expect you to get up," You call over your shoulder, throwing him a bashful smile. "You sleep like a brick, you know."

You almost laugh at the startled expression on Jumin's face at your words, but settle for only breaking a smile. Your hands hold a rather large cup of coffee, dangerously close to overspilling, and you don't want to cause a mess.

Jumin finally chuckles, walking toward you slowly before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You can feel his sleepiness in the way his hands slowly rub your sides, quietly seeking the warmth from you that he had when he was still under the covers. "In my defense, four in the morning is an hour that even _I_ am unaccustomed to rising at." Jumin hesitates, before continuing. "What has you up this early?"

"I wanted to watch the sunrise," You confess. It's true. Ever since you saw this glorious wall: composed entirely of glass panels polished so cleanly that one almost doesn't notice them, you've been wanting to watch the sun greet you along with the city as it rises from its own slumber.

"You're two hours early, my love."

"Well, I also wanted to see the city." You sip your coffee, leaning into Jumin's touch when he begins pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

"Fond of landscapes?" Jumin asks, trailing his lips up to your ear.

"I suppose? I've only ever had the opportunity to look at cityscapes in all my travels, really, but I _have_ always wanted to see a natural 'scape. A nice, countryside hill, maybe. Or a field of flowers—like the ones in the movies."

"Oh?" Jumin asks, pausing his kisses. He steals a taste of the coffee in your cup, licking his lips before continuing. "How is it that such an accomplished businesswoman such as yourself has never seen something simple as a field of flowers? Don't you fly over them all the time during your travels?"

You shake your head, wondering what business trips Jumin is going on that brings his planes close enough to see such sights. "My flights take me from city to city, and I was born and raised here. I've never actually seen anything other than a cityscape."

"A pity," Jumin mumbles, finally ceasing his ministrations and opting to rest his head on top of yours. "Do you enjoy this sight, at the very least? I purchased this penthouse apartment specifically for the view."

You nod. "I've actually been in this apartment once before, when someone else owned this penthouse. A classmate, actually. It was stunning even then; I've always wanted to see how it's changed." A light laugh escapes your lips, and you sway in Jumin's embrace. "This city has aged well."

You can feel the smile on Jumin's lips.

"Let's paint it."

You raise your eyebrows, wondering if Jumin is joking. But, if anything, his expression looks even sterner than before—the previous sleepiness now gone from his eyes. He glances down at you, a faint smile on his lips.

"What?" He asks at your shocked expression. "We have two whole hours before the sun rises, and you said you wanted to watch the city. What better way to ensure that the eye observes everything than to test its accuracy by hand? I'll even help you. We can paint it together."

Before you can open your mouth to respond, Jumin is already elaborating on his own idea, growing more eager about it with each passing second. You've heard from his father that he gets like this, from time to time. Usually, it applies to his (cat-related) business pursuits, but you suppose it's possible that the man has an interest in art as well.

You smile.

Oh, who are you kidding?

You know the real reason why he's so eager to make a painting with you.

It's for the _memories_.

A physical memory, a tangible reminder, that the two of you were once together, mutual love stroked into the canvas as an eternal token to _you_. It's not a painting of the city that has yet to wake up, but a portrait of your relationship. Dark but beautiful. Shrouded by shadow but only to the untrained eye. Unseen by most but very much _there._

You smile, finishing your cup of coffee as Jumin quickly sets up a canvas, a stool, paints, and all the other tools one could possibly need for painting. A part of you wonders where on earth he salvaged these objects from, surprisingly high-quality materials for someone who's job is their hobby, but you don't question it.

The almost _giddy_ smile on Jumin's face only evokes a similar enthusiasm in you, as you join him in beginning to sketch the cityscape outline.

In truth, the whole process is a bit of a mess. You argue for a few minutes over what the four bounds of the view will be, on the sizes of the buildings, and on the shading cues. But the longer you work, the better your cooperation is. There comes a point where you're not even talking, pencils filling the silence where words are absent.

By the time you two have finished your preliminary outline, the markings on the canvas almost resemble the _actual_ cityscape, and neither of you can hold back your smiles at the sight.

_Lovely._

Jumin finally steps back after fixating on the angle of a particularly tall window, sitting on the stool as he tries to evaluate what needs further work before the two of you can continue to paint.

"I'm not sure how the details on the tops of these buildings will carry when we paint over this," He muses. "It might be worth our while to focus more on the areas that are better illuminated, like the streets with their lampposts and whatnot."

"That's fine _,"_ You mumble, walking forward to obscure his vision of the painting. You loop your arms around his neck, smiling sweetly at him. Sketching has been fun, no doubt, but your right hand hurts a bit from gripping the pencil for so long.

Jumin only strains his neck to look above you.

"Also, I feel like we went a bit overboard with the stars. It's probably better to draw in the ones that are most visible, and then the less bright ones can be added in with a dulled version of the—"

"It's _fine,"_ You mumble, interrupting Jumin with a pout. When he opens his mouth again to speak, you silence him with a long kiss.

It's the first one of the day, you realize. Last night, you'd barely had time to breathe with the vigor at which Jumin was kissing you, lips constantly colliding in a desperate summon for _more_. Now, though, you're able to savor it. Enjoy the softness of his lips, the way they gently mold into yours.

Amidst the silence of the penthouse and the silence of the city, it truly feels like you two are the only ones alive in the world, every star in the sky you just sketched watching over the both of you as you continue to kiss.

"Ready?" Jumin mumbles into the kiss, pulling you closer to him by your hips. You almost step back to ask him _Ready for what?_ when the answer comes as he lifts your body up, placing you on top of his lap.

He lets out a light chuckle at your momentary disbelief at what just happened.

Instantly, you grip the man's shoulders for support, not trusting the small stool he's sitting on to fully support both of you, and Jumin settles his hands about your waist. _Relax_ , he seems to be saying, though his lips are on yours. _I won't let you fall._

Gradually, you begin to melt into the kiss, forgetting the instability of the stool and the exposure of the window and everything else except for _him_. In this position, you actually get to look _down_ at him as you make out, and it feels glorious. In turn, Jumin looks up at you and kisses you like you're a goddess, worshiping you with every time his lips ghost over your skin. The position gives him complete access to your neck, he soon finds, and he sets to littering the area with every mark his tongue can produce, leaving no part of you his lips can touch unclaimed.

It's not long before both your tops are discarded on the floor, lost in the heat of the moment.

The kisses, once chaste and slow, turn fervent with desire, and Jumin lifts your body like a doll, discarding your remaining clothing without even raising his lips from your skin.

He takes his time with you, savoring the moment. And despite your quiet pleas for him to stop teasing you, you love every second of it—the man already so well-versed in the language of your body, picking up its every cue.

And before long, the sun is beginning to peek into the sky and your wishes of watching the sunrise alongside finish your painting of the cityscape fade, but none of that matters because in the moment you're with Jumin and it's hot and it's passionate and it's breathtaking and you never want to let go.

Yet even as he continues pulling your body close to him, letting you feel the outline of his muscles, you know that, in the end, what you want doesn't matter.

But wrapped in Jumin's arms as he continues sucking and biting in all the right spots, you allow yourself to forget that. _Just a little bit_ , you tell yourself, closing your eyes, allowing all thoughts to drift away so you can simply enjoy the moment. _Let me forget about everything, just for a little while._

Surely you deserve that much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1.9k
> 
> Notes: It is currently 7 in the morning and I have not slept since my afternoon nap yesterday and I still have a oneshot to write, a quiz to take, a meeting to attend, a work out to do, all my hw to finish, and I HaVEnT stUdIeD fOR tHe qUiZ yET SEnD HeLP
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 5/09/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	8. Day 8

Mornings with Jumin are peaceful. They're slow, longlasting, and _calm_ as the two of you both shake off the blanket of sleep that had kept you cozy all night.

The water of the shower is warm as it hits your body, Jumin's gentle hands even warmer as he helps you wash—but for the first time, he settles for just that. An innocent kiss on your shoulder, before shampoo washes it off. A subtle cup of your rear, as he slides his hand down with the water, before letting his hand glide back up to your back. A tender moment where he rests his forehead atop yours, before pulling back and running his hands through your hair to feel the lingering softness induced by the conditioner.

It's intimate without the intimacy. Closeness without togetherness. Love without overt expression, but presently there nonetheless.

The two of you don't speak, content with merely enjoying each other's company, and as you exit Jumin's private bathroom, you can't help but think that _this_ is the type of morning you want to live out for the rest of your life.

In truth, the thought would probably weigh heavily on your mind all morning, as you try to force thoughts of Chairman Han—and how he's stealing that potential life from you—to the back of your mind, but another distraction serves the purpose altogether.

"Elizabeth!" You exclaim in surprise, prompting Jumin to poke his head into the bedroom. "What are you doing on the bed, sweetie?" You ask her, crawling back onto the sheets to stroke her lovely fur. The blanket is still warm with the memory of your bodies.

"Hm, she's not used to sleeping without me," Jumin muses, returning to bed with you. You instantly relax when his arms wrap around you, sandwiching your body between him and Elizabeth as she purrs into his hands. "I suppose she missed the bed."

_She won't need to worry about that for much longer_ , you can't help but think. The fact that tomorrow is the final day before your wedding to Chairman Han is something that you haven't been able to forget for even a second. But for the sake of preserving the morning atmosphere of tranquility, you keep the thought to yourself.

"What a princess," You respond, smiling. "Ah! Jumin, her fur is going to get caught in my hair! I _just_ showered!"

You groan, suddenly remembering just _how much_ this snowy angel sheds. You can already see the white hairs sticking to your wet, (h/c) hair, and you try to gather your hair in a fist to push it behind you when Jumin's nonchalance stops you.

"What's wrong with a little fur?" He nuzzles your neck. You can feel him close his eyes, and in this position, both of you so comfortably spread out on the bed, you can tell that he's being pulled back into the comfortable arms of slumber.

"Jumin, I can feel you falling asleep on me," You warn.

"Hm" is his dismissive response as he rests his head atop yours. You contemplate letting the ravenhead sleep for a few more hours—you certainly wouldn't mind being wrapped in his arms like this, it's _so_ cozy—but you ultimately decide against it.

"Jumin~" You coo, turning around to face him. He twitches when you stir in his arms, but apart from that, he looks like he's already dozing.

A devilish grin crosses your face.

You reach back, squeezing your hair into your palm. You hadn't taken the time to dry it properly, so a significant amount of water collects on the surface of your palm—enough for Elizabeth to _meow_ in discontent when some drips onto her nose, but you ignore her. "Jumin," You repeat, giving the man one final chance. When he doesn't respond, you abandon mercy. "Oh, you're just _asking_ for it now."

You bring your hand forward, keeping it enclosed in a fist until the palm is directly in front of the man's face. Jumin looks so innocent when he sleeps. So cute, so still, so serene. But you don't regret bursting your hand open, the momentum of the movement forcing a small rain of water down on Jumin's face.

The look of utter disbelief on his face is _precious_.

"(Y/N)!" He exclaims, eyes wide open now. You pull Elizabeth onto your chest as a shield as Jumin stares at you with eyes narrowed in mock anger. "Why on _earth_ would you—"

You silence the man with a kiss, leaning back once more to savor his expression. Truly, you have the man in the palm of your hand, able to make him flustered or needy or pacified with a single action.

"I like it better when you're awake," You say with a light giggle, smiling at the pink dusting that covers Jumin's cheeks. He doesn't usually get embarrassed, but when you catch him off-guard, he still shows you his more vulnerable side.

"You could have just asked," He responds, returning the kiss. He brings one hand up to play with your hair, turning it into a makeshift pillow for the wet locks, all while stroking Elizabeth with his other hand. It's almost amusing to see him providing you both equal affection, but you suppose that's a part of his charm.

You close your eyes, bringing your hands up to drape loosely around Jumin's neck. Like him, you let your fingers play with his damp hair, wondering how he manages to keep it so soft. As usual, though, his lips take you away from your thoughts, until all that's left in your mind is _him_.

"I love this," He confesses after a moment. "Just you, me, and Elizabeth. I want things to be like this for the rest of our..."

You silence Jumin once more with a kiss, this time a knowing look flashing between the two of you. "There's no point in thinking about the future," You finally murmur. "All we can do is enjoy the present."

"Does it have to end?" He asks, his tone somewhat broken. Jumin keeps his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours, and you're grateful. You're not sure you'd be able to bear witnessing that storm of emotion whirl through his steely grey eyes again. Not when _you're_ the cause of all that inner turmoil.

"My heart will always be here," You respond. "With you. With Elizabeth. With that painting we did yesterday. With these memories."

Jumin pauses for a while, finally opening his eyes so he can stare into yours.

"I want you to be happy," He admits. "But no matter what, neither of us gets a happy ending. If your heart stays with me...then your marriage will be miserable. But if you do manage to find happiness in my father's arms..." You hear a slight tremble in Jumin's words. His next words come in a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do with myself."

"Don't think about that," You respond instantly. "I...I could never, Jumin. Only with you."

Jumin sighs.

"You're sure about devoting your heart to a relationship that can never be?"

You nod.

Between you two, Elizabeth _meows_ as if she understands the weight of your words.

"I will not let you down," Jumin promises. He reaches back to pull the hand you have buried in his hair, tenderly bringing it forward so that he can lay a tender kiss across the knuckles. "If you give your heart to me, then I give mine to you as well. Forever."

You giggle.

"It'll truly be something," You murmur. "A relationship without physical relations."

"The first relationship of its kind." Jumin smiles, going on to utter the words that you'd thought of yourself not twenty minutes ago in the shower. "Intimate without the intimacy."

Instinctively, you continue his phrase: "Closeness without togetherness."

Jumin nods, kissing you.

"Love without expression."

It's the best you can hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1.3k
> 
> Notes: I wanted to include some final fluff before the angst hits :( 
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Next Update: 5/13/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	9. Day 9

"The flowers are beautiful, Jumin." You smile as you stare into the bouquet of red and white, wondering how the man had managed to discretely procure these roses when you've been all but glued to his side for the past three days. You have more tact than to ask, though, so you settle for a bashful smile up at Jumin as he pulls a single long-stemmed rose from the bundle, lifting it up and fitting it into the first knot of the elegant braid you'd woven your hair into for this special evening.

_Wear this_ , he had mumbled an hour ago, thrusting the burgundy gown you're currently wearing into your arms. _I have a surprise for you_.

You ended up exiting the room fully dressed: wearing heels, earrings, a necklace, and all the other little accessories you'd managed to dig up that pair with the outfit. In truth, you'd expected that Jumin would be taking you out to a restaurant, to get your mind off of everything. When you'd next seen him, that thought had only been reinforced, staring at the man in his crisp suit, not a single strand of cat hair anywhere on his body.

But what he's prepared is more romantic than even an evening at a five-star establishment, with all its elegance and prestige.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Jumin leads you into what was once his living room.

"How do you like it, my love?" He smiles down at you, still holding your hand as he brings it up to his lips to lay a tender kiss over the knuckles.

"Oh, _Jumin._ " You're left at a loss for words, your response coming out in a jumble. "How—how did you do all of this? And _when?_ It's—it's so lovely—too lovely—oh, Jumin, it's incredible. I love it. I love it so much, I love _it_ and I love _you_ , Jumin." You wrap your arms around the man, sighing in content as he chuckles over your complete mesmerization.

And, looking around, who _wouldn't_ be mesmerized by this?

The living room has been reborn.

It's no longer a comfortable lounging area, with couches and a TV—it's something else entirely. Where there was once a carpet, now the hardwood floor has been exposed, revealing the vibrant color of the wood that seems to glow in the gentle lighting. All furniture has been removed, not a single couch or coffee table in sight, and the room is lined with tall wick candles, the flames flickering gently as they give off the soft scent of _romance_.

And there, in the very center of the room, is what brings the entire aesthetic together: a table for two, with a single candle and rose in the center of the table.

_Stunning_.

The table has even been moved parallel to the windowed wall you love so much, giving you both a perfect view of the city and its quiet but distant lights, and you can only stare at the sheer beauty of everything. Who would have thought that Jumin's living room could be converted into _this?_

"Shall we?" The man whispers, offering his arm to you as you walk forward. Your heels click quietly on the ground, and soon enough, Jumin has pulled out your chair.

You take your seat with a gracious smile.

"It's amazing," You mumble, still looking around. The walls have been stripped bare of the modern artwork previously hung, the only art in sight being the cityscape the two of you painted together just two days ago. "How much effort did it take to arrange all this?"

"That doesn't matter, my love. It was all worth it, I assure you." Jumin's gaze is soft as he strokes the top of your hand with his thumb from across the table. "Your smile has never looked so lovely."

You can't suppress the immediate grin that stretches across your features, a light blush painting itself over your cheeks. You would say something just as romantic back to him, but another man enters the room, one you recognize as Jumin's private chef. Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment, given that you haven't seen anyone other than Jumin in these past few days, but you quickly understand.

Jumin must want to give you the full experience of a romantic dinner. Having it located in his own penthouse is only meant to enhance the experience, which obviously will be a five-course meal with a privatized dining experience, complete with a personal chef and waiter.

"Sir, my lady." The chef politely nods at you both. "The current meal course prepared is best complemented by a bottle of Pétrus, though if there is an issue, our stock offers a variety of other wines that pair well. Might I bring a bottle out?"

Jumin nods his head, the whole situation a mere formality to better simulate a restaurant, but you smile nonetheless. _He's so thoughtful_.

"It occurred to me that the two of us have yet to have a formal dinner like this," Jumin says when the wine arrives, pouring you both a glass. You take a sip of yours. "So I wanted to treat you."

_Before we have to part._

You hear that second part in your head, an unwanted extension of Jumin's kind words. They're true, but you ignore the thought, forcing it away with another drink of your wine.

"This Pétrus is delicious," You say when the glass leaves your lips.

"I agree. It's one of my favorite reds, so I always make sure to have a few bottles on hand." Jumin smiles, taking a sip himself. "Though I must say, the company makes this glass taste infinitely better."

Once more, your cheeks pinken at the man's utter seriousness as he says words that, from anyone else, would be teasing. It only adds to his charm, though. Not that his charm needs adding to. The fact that he's managed to do all this when he could have simply taken you out to a restaurant speaks volumes about his character—volumes about how much he cares for you.

Slowly, the night grows longer and the conversation turns natural once more, both of you finding comfort in the presence of each other. You feel like you should pay attention to the food, to the foie gras on your plate that is quickly exchanged for glazed steak rolls and then caviar with crème fraîche and then something else that you barely think about as you swallow, but you can't. How can anyone think about _food_ , of all things, with a man as interesting as Jumin so close?

You smile as he finishes his analysis of the current market economy, concluding with a brief mention of how the optimal time for purchasing stocks should come in roughly eight months, counterproductive as it may seem. If you're perfectly candid, you're not sure you care—but that doesn't matter. The fact that these words are coming from Jumin is enough to make you hang on to every sentence for dear life.

After all, it's not like you'll have the rest of your life to savor his presence.

You take another sip of your wine at the thought, immediately forcing the knowledge away.

"(Y/N)?" Jumin asks. His eyes are round in concern. "Is something the matter?"

"Not at all," You say with a smile. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you seem to be drinking rather heavily tonight. This bottle is nearly empty, and I've only had a glass." Jumin's eyes shift away, clearly uncomfortably with the direct confrontation. "Do consider that tomorrow is a day of...importance. It would be very difficult for you if tonight's alcohol adds to your burdens."

Hungover.

Fancy phrases cast aside, Jumin is saying that it'll be bad if you're hungover for your wedding tomorrow.

You hold back a slight frown as the chef (or waiter? Jumin is partially correct, your brain is a bit fuzzier than it should be right now) sets down a plate of Danish chocolate truffles: the dessert course. You wait until the man leaves the room to respond to Jumin, staring at the three delicate balls of cocoa and sugar.

"Let's not speak about tomorrow." You take another sip of wine to push the thoughts away from your mind, savoring the fogginess that accompanies the wash of the Pétrus down your throat. With cares of the morrow freshly forgotten, you turn your face back to Jumin. "Shall we eat these truffles? They do look quite delicious."

But Jumin doesn't seem to register your question. If anything, his expression grows darker when he notes your utter avoidance of his earlier comment.

A moment of silence passes between you two.

And then Jumin breaks it.

He stands up with a sigh, walking over to you to pull out your chair. You almost lose your balance in your heels when he helps you up, his hold gentle but quicker than you're used to. Or perhaps it's just as quick as you're used to, but your dulled senses are processing it incorrectly. "Come on, my love." Jumin's voice is soft, tender as he wraps an arm around your waist. He doesn't sound angry, or even irritated. But there's a mute helplessness lurking behind his words—one that you're too mentally unfocused to understand _why_. "We should get you to bed."

You freeze at the words, your body suddenly fighting back against Jumin. You still against his touch, rooting yourself to the ground.

"No."

The word is quiet, but it's there nonetheless. Jumin halts at your denial, glancing down at you with confusion painted over his fine features. "(Y/N)?"

You press your hands flat against his chest, forcing him to stop (and subsequently stabilizing you on the ground). "Do not force me to go to sleep now, Jumin." You hear the waver in your voice, and you have to swallow before you continue. "Do not end this night earlier than it has to."

Against your arms, Jumin sighs. If he didn't understand it before, he understands the reason for your increased alcohol consumption now. "My love," He murmurs, wrapping you in a gentle embrace. "We can't...we can't delay time itself. This...has to end." Jumin pauses, leaning back ever-so-slightly. "You know that, right?"

You suppress an urge to curse at his words, a wave of frustration flooding you. Of _course_ you know that. How much of a fool does the man take you for? You can hold your alcohol better than he thinks; you're only slightly buzzed from the beverages.

Is it so wrong to give in to temptation, though? Is it so wrong to allow yourself to forget the truth? To forget, for one fucking moment of your godforsaken life, that this snapshot of happiness isn't going to last?

"You need to sleep, (Y/N)." Jumin sighs, lifting you. Miraculously, he slides you out of your slip-on heels, placing you flat on the ground. "It's time...to accept our reality."

"Is this how you wanted dinner to end?" You ask. The question is real. Had you ruined the evening with your drinking, or was the dinner the goodbye in itself? You feel tears hot in your eyes, spurred on by your slight inebriation, and you suddenly wish you hadn't touched your glass of red.

Jumin's smile is sad as he gazes down at you, brushing a strand of loose hair out of your face and looping it behind your ear. His hand traces from your ear, to your jaw, to your ear again and then the back of your head where he had earlier slipped a rose into your braid. He strokes the flower's petals, and as you gaze into his eyes, you understand his earlier sigh of helplessness. "This was the only way for dinner to end, my love." A pause. And it's here that Jumin should stop; it's here that he should wrap you in a hug and lift you into his arms as usual, but for some reason, the man continues. "For us, there are no happy endings."

The painful words of the truth hit you like a truck, knocking the air out of you, and you feel a shudder travel through your body. In an instant, the tears in your eyes are falling to your cheeks, and your knees would hit the ground if not for Jumin's quick reflexes.

"Shh," He whispers into your ear as you allow yourself to cry in the safety of his arms. For days, you've suppressed the tears. Suppressed the tears and suppressed the truth. But there's no denying it anymore, is there? The wedding is tomorrow, and you're going to forever lose this sweet mercy of happiness that you've found in Jumin's arms. "Don't cry," He whispers. "Everything will be okay, don't cry."

"B-be quiet," You mumble into his shirt, though you both know you don't mean it. "Of all people, you don't deserve to...to..."

To what?

To comfort you? To hold you? To cradle you in his arms, and soothe you?

Jumin lifts your body up, a motion he's done nearly a hundred times by now in your brief stay with him, and carries you to his bed. He kisses your tears away, lips fluttering across your cheeks every time your miseries persist, until they're dry.

He briefly leaves your side, murmuring something about getting you something to change into, but you barely register his words. The storm of emotion wreaking havoc on your heart is too much for you to think about anything else.

If you were to withdraw from the blankets and place an ear to the door, you might hear the snippets of a conversation Jumin has over the phone: hushed utterings directed to Luciel, something about coordinates and calling in a favor _just this once_ to make saying goodbye a little easier.But the words end up staying between Jumin and the redhead hacker on the line, you and your despair entirely unknowing of the entire discussion.

But it doesn't matter.

It can't matter.

Because right now, to you, _nothing_ matters.

Three days ago, you'd had at least that: three days left with Jumin Han. He was to be your mortal savior, a brief gift from God to show you bliss. But now, your time is up. And you'll have to leave his side.

You barely respond to the man as he helps you out of your clothes, slipping you into silk pajamas that feel cool and refreshing against your skin. He wraps you in an embrace from behind in an attempt to soothe your trembling as he pulls your body back down onto the bed, silently encouraging you to _sleep_ , and give yourself the mercy of slumber to escape this life, however temporary.

But even as Jumin rubs soothing circles into your sides, all the lights out and the noises of the city far away, your mind is impossibly alert.

You think about the chocolate truffles still on the table. Three exquisite balls, shaped to perfection in their cocoa goodness, untouched and disregarded. You feel an overwhelming urge to return to the table, to drag Jumin out of bed, and finish those truffles with him.

It will be brief, but it will be happiness. Another memory for you to recall on painful nights, as you reminisce over a love that should have been but never could have been.

You almost turn around in Jumin's embrace, with a heart set of whispering your request into his ear, before you realize—what's the point?

There's so much you want to do. Having chocolate truffles with Jumin is only the beginning.

You want to wake up with Jumin and appreciate his morning bedhead. You want to make him breakfast, and learn how he likes his eggs best. You want to find out how he drinks his coffee, and surprise him at work with a cup. You want to spend peaceful afternoons with him, and listen to him analyze all your favorite books. You want to take bubble baths with him, go to jazz clubs with him, play board games with him, have inside jokes with him, you want to _love_ him goddamnit.

A tightness begins to clutch at your throat, and you wish it would grow tighter. Anything, to get you out of the hell that your life will be without Jumin by your side.

You can hear the grandfather clock chime twelve times: twelve loud syllables that are a ringing declaration that the cursed day has come.

Twelve reminders that the life you've lived has ended, your heart—the one thing keeping you afloat all this time—ripped out of your chest to be lost forever with the sweet memories of what these past nine days with Jumin have been.

You bury yourself in the covers, in memories of how you fell in love with this ebony-haired businessman.

Instinctively, a smile crosses your face. So many memories. It's barely been over a week, but it's enough to last you a lifetime. Enough for you to daydream all night, only popping out of your enraptured state once every hour when the grandfather clock breaks your focus to tell you that it's one, two, three, four, five o'clock.

Before the clock can ring six times, though, the sunrise beats it.

You frown when you see the room beginning to lighten, the darkness lifted with the ghost of sunlight. You immediately stiffen, thoughts of Jumin and the time he had mistaken a spatula for ladle suddenly removed from your mind.

You swallow, and the way Jumin's arms tense around you tells you that he, too, has been unable to sleep this past night.

You're quiet.

You don't want to disturb the moment.

If you freeze and pretend not to move, will time humor you and stop its march forward?

You hold your breath as light continues to fill the room, stealing away the last of your inner peace.

There's no mistaking it: the new day has arrived, the morning sunrise you once adored being the bearer of bad news. _A pity_ , you can't help but think. There was a time when you liked the rising sun, with it's promise of a new day, of new possibilities, new life.

All it can bring you now is the daily reminder of the miserable life you've been cursed to live.

A life without love, happiness, or hope.

A life without Jumin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3.1k
> 
> Notes: Ahhhh I can't believe this is the second last chapter! It's been such a wild ride, and chapter 10 (day 10, i guess) is something I'm super excited for :) (lmao im already planning my next jumin x reader fic the things i do for this man smh) 
> 
> Comment & Like
> 
> Next Update: 5/16/20
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


	10. Day 10

Jumin's hand never leaves yours.

Not in the morning, when the two of you bathe together for the final time. Not when you check your phones, to learn the details of the wedding. Not when you leave the penthouse, kissing Elizabeth goodbye. Not when you board his private jet, beginning your journey to the private beach in Thailand, where the wedding is supposed to be held. And not now, as the two of you gaze out of the window into the endless expanse of clouds,

You open your mouth to make a comment about the pristineness of Jumin's jet, but before you can say anything, you're both interrupted by the pilot's voice over the speakers.

"Mr. Han, ma'am, I apologize for the inconvenience, but there's been a bomb threat delivered to one of the cities we're supposed to be flying over. All flight units passing through have been instructed to land immediately and wait until Air Traffic Control can process our new flight routes."

"Don't worry about it," Jumin responds, pressing a button as he speaks. "Tell us when it's safe to exit the jet."

"Yes, sir."

When the exchange is over, though, you're left gaping at Jumin, struck by his utter calmness to the whole situation. The man looks almost indifferent.

"What's wrong?" He asks you, eyes raised in concern.

"Jumin, your pilot said someone made a _bomb threat_ to an entire city. Doesn't that scare you?" The very thought leaves your stomach with an uneasy feeling.

"Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Are you kidding?" Your tone is incredulous. " _We_ might be fine, but think about all those people! They could die today!"

Jumin's neutral expression breaks when he sees your bottom lip quivering, a sudden swarm of emotion hitting you when you think about the prospect of death and pain.

"Don't worry," He mumbles, squeezing your hand. "No one will be harmed. I promise you. Don't let yourself be upset by this."

"How can you be certain?" You ask, glancing out the window. The jet is descending—you can feel it in the change in pressure—and the blanket of clouds you previously saw is no longer visible.

Jumin is silent, opting to not answer your question.

Only _then_ do you notice his suspicious behavior. "Jumin," You say, eyes narrowing as you turn to face him. "How are you so certain that nothing will come to fruition of this bomb threat?"

The man averts his eyes from your hard gaze, sheepishly staring forward while he confesses the truth. "I may have...called in a favor from Luciel."

"Oh my god," You mumble, resisting an urge to facepalm. "You had Luciel threaten an _entire_ city? To postpone this wedding for, what, one more hour?"

"No," Jumin responds quickly, meeting your eyes once more. "That wasn't my reasoning."

"Then, _why?"_

Jumin is silent, reaching over your body and closing the window cover so that you can't see outside anymore. "You'll see when we exit the jet."

You cross your arms in a huff, your frown deepening when you realize that you and Jumin are no longer holding hands. A part of you can't believe that Jumin, of all people—Luciel's involvement is unsurprising—would go to such dramatic lengths to achieve something. Air Traffic Control will have control of the situation quickly enough, and the two of you only be nothing but inconvenienced with the delay this will cause in arriving at the wedding, so _why?_

You allow Jumin to guide you out of the jet after the pilot confirms that it's okay, the man subtly slipping his hand back in yours as he slides open the door to the plane.

You gasp.

"Jumin..." You murmur, momentarily unable to think of anything to say other than his name. If you thought yesterday's revamping of the living room was amazing, then this is something else _entirely_.

Unable to hold yourself back, you pull Jumin's arm forward, leading him out of the jet. "It's beautiful, Jumin. It's _beautiful."_

You tilt your head right, then left, then forward, then right again—utterly unsure of _what_ to look at when there's so much beauty to take in.

The plane has landed in a field, no trees in sight for as far as your eye can see, and every inch of the ground is covered in color, covered in lovely _flowers_ that beam brightly beneath the afternoon sun.

At your feet, over a hundred daisies surround you. Then further on, there's a patch of anemones, and then asters, and then magnolias, and you can't even identify some of the petalled plants as they stand proudly in bold pinks, bright yellows, rich purples, deep reds, and every shade in between.

"It's amazing," You murmur. "I've never..."

You suddenly remember a conversation you had with Jumin, just three days ago, where you casually mentioned to him that all you've seen of the world has been city life. Your quiet yearning to see a beautiful field like this had been subtle, the two of you moving on from the conversation as quickly as it had been brought up, but Jumin _remembered._

"I love you," You murmur, turning around to face Jumin. You already know the words as he repeats them back to you, pulling you in for a tight embrace followed by a loving kiss, but the moment is too sweet to pass by.

"How do you always manage to be so wonderful?" You ask, giggling lightly as the two of you begin walking away from the jet, venturing further out in this field of flowers. You bend down every so often, fingers ghosting over the petals but never plucking them: appreciating but never stealing.

"When you told me you'd never seen a field like this, I thought that it was one of the few tragedies in your life that I could amend." Jumin squeezes your palm, prompting you to stop and face him. "Your smile right now is more beautiful than all these flowers."

You lean up and kiss him again, smiling as the sun beats down on you. You don't even care that in four hours, you'll be on a beach in Thailand committing yourself to Chairman Han until death do you part. Right now, in this field, you and Jumin are untouchable. There's no one to tell you no. No one to pull you apart. No one to deny the most genuine affection you've ever felt.

Here, with only the plants to judge you, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

In this field of flowers, you can love Jumin freely.

You smile, feeling the sensation of a daffodil rub against your ankle.

"Was a bomb threat really necessary, though?" You ask with an amused smile. "Couldn't you have just asked your pilot to stop here?"

Jumin shakes his head. "Not quite. This is an unregistered landing spot—that's why the natural beauty here has been preserved so well. The only conditions where a plane would be instructed to land here is, well, in the case of something as serious as a bomb threat." Jumin smiles, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. "Few others have laid their eyes on this field, my love. All this beauty is for you."

You smile at Jumin, kissing him even deeper.

In his pocket, his phone vibrates twice: a message from the pilot, saying that the jet has been cleared for takeoff with an alternate route to your destination.

But Jumin doesn't head back immediately. He stays rooted to the spot, hands on your waist, leaning his forehead against yours while a cool breeze wraps around you both.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have given you more happiness," He murmurs, eyes still closed as he stands unmoving and tall.

"No, Jumin." You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, sensing that _this_ is the goodbye he's been waiting for so long to give you. The most beautiful goodbye of them all—surrounded by flowers and fluffy clouds and a blue sky and a bright sun and all things lovely. "You've given me all the happiness I need."

You lean your head upward, a slight movement that barely requires any effort from you, and capture Jumin's lips in the softest kiss you've shared yet. His lips are a ghost on yours, already fading away with the knowledge of your futures pressing down on you both, and all you can feel is the wind as it blissfully dances around your bodies before it slowly, very slowly, comes between your figures and separates you: nature's gentle pull, letting you both know that it's time to part.

You take the man's hand in yours, walking slowly back to the jet, all too aware that you just had your final kiss with Jumin Han. Neither of you have said the word "Goodbye," but there's no need.

The goodbye was the kiss, the warmth, the love. Fleeting in the moment, but eternally longlasting in your memories.

You can't bring yourself to pull your hand away from Jumin's as you two sit down in a comfortable silence once more, suddenly acutely aware that, by clutching his hand, all you're doing is clinging to the memory of the love you're slowly being torn from.

But it doesn't matter.

Your fingers remain interlaced for the next four hours, all the way until the jet has landed on the beach Chairman Han selected for the wedding. Your eyes instantly dart to the large white tent nearby, just a few hundred feet away from where the jet landed, and you lead Jumin there—refusing to let him leave your side until the very end.

"Mother?" You ask, upon entry. But the tent is bare. A small note on a table instructs you to prepare yourself for the ceremony that, according to your phone, is in less than an hour. _Will meet you there. Don't pull any funny business. Dress in what we've provided._

You sigh, wordlessly showing the note to Jumin. Of course you wouldn't even be provided with a proper wedding dresser—this whole wedding is exclusively for legal purposes, anyway. You should be surprised that you're not just signing documents.

The whole changing process is rather underwhelming. Your dress is gorgeous, no doubt, so stunning that when Jumin helps you into it, he's temporarily frozen in place by how utterly glamorous you look, the white fabric showing the perfect mix of skin and design. But you can't bring yourself to love the dress, or the shoes, or the jewelry that's been laid out for you. It's all for Chairman Han, when you want it to be for Jumin.

The beginning of the end, if you will.

In the distance, the two of you hear voices.

"It seems that they've arrived," Jumin notes, creeping open the flap of the tent to reveal what looks like your mother, Chairman Han, and a minister, all standing far in the distance. The setup is far from extravagant, but the setting sun in the background adds an element of serenity that you almost resent.

"They can wait," You mumble, wrapping a cover over your dress while trying to figure out what to do for your makeup.

You don't want to look pretty.

No, you want to look ugly.

You want your eyeliner to be shaky and uneven, your foundation unnecessarily thick, and your lipstick four shades too dark for your skin tone. You want your hair to stick up unnaturally as it does every so often, and to ruin all your natural beauty with the sea of makeup and hair products laid out in front of you.

You don't want Chairman Han to have the privilege of a beautiful bride.

But the more time you spend in this tent, preparing yourself, the more time you have to savor the last few moments you have with Jumin.

So you take your time, fingers working slowly as they go through the makeup routine you perfected years ago. You move at a leisurely pace, holding your hands steady as they work, preparing yourself not for the wedding with Chairman Han, but for the final walk you'll be making down the beach with Jumin.

He stares at you the whole time as you get ready, calmly taking in everything you do. You can tell that he's memorizing the deftness of your fingers, the crane of your neck, the posture of your shoulders, as you continue. And you go so slow that, from the corner of your eye, you're able to take in the last of the details about him, too: the rhythm to the rise and fall of his chest, the stiffness with which he readjusts his sleeve cuffs every so often, the bob of his neck as he swallows whenever you switch beauty products.

For once, time doesn't rush the moment forward. It's a quiet mercy, unnoticeable to most, but you can feel it in the slowness of the breeze and the lagging tranquility of the waves as they crash.

It's a final moment of peace.

You step back from the mirror, finally finished with the last of your makeup and hair. Slipping your white gloves on and the sheet protecting your wedding dress off, Jumin comes over to you the moment you're done, his hand resting tenderly on your hip as he faces the mirror with you.

He's imagining you as his bride, you know.

Why, in your head, you're doing the exact same thing—the man already dressed like the ideal groom in his elegant three-piece suit.

The two of you really do look perfect together.

But the moment does not last. It never lasts. In the distance, a seagull cries three times, pulling you both from your thoughts.

You turn around, gently clasping Jumin's gloved hands in your own.

"You look exquisite," He murmurs, softly caressing your fingertips. His eyes are filled with love, his grey affection being all you can see as you stare up into the eyes you've grown to love so much.

You feel an urge to lean up in your heels and kiss the man, but you force yourself to suppress it. The current moment isn't meant to be happy for either of you, and you won't allow yourself to forget that truth. The fates have spoken, and your destinies have been written. Along different paths.

Not a single tear slips down either of your cheeks as you prepare to step away from each other for the final time. There are no tears left to shed, nowhere for them to come from. Your hearts are gone, cold and abandoned in the flowery field of peace Jumin brought you to, only to be remembered in your fading memories of each other.

Jumin kisses your gloved fingers, lips ghosting over each of the knuckles as he gazes down at you. Doubtless, he knows as much as you do that the moment you leave this tent, you no longer belong to him.

His gaze shifts to the flap of the entrance, a gentle breeze opening it like nature's whisper that the time has come. The man looks at you, wordlessly offering his arm.

There's only one path forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2.5k
> 
> Notes: Wow. I can't believe it's over! This series has been such a pleasure to write, and I want to thank everyone who's supported me by reading this. If I'm being honest, I think I planned on making this chapter a bit more angsty...but I'm content with the way I ended things. Their love wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful - and I think that's what made the journey so passionate.
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.


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